Door of Pain
by love-that-Lovelace
Summary: His hair brushed the insides of her thighs, "Lie back, mon chérie." He whispered. His voice, thick with an unidentifiable emotion, tickled her core. She shuddered, blinking tears out of her eyes, "Papa, please stop. I don't like this." MATURE CONTENT. INCEST. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
1. Silence

Celine sat in her bed quivering in fear as each thud of her father's footsteps neared her bedroom door. She suppressed a sob as she prepared herself for the imminent pain she would endure. Memories of her father gripping her thighs as he imposed himself upon her flooded her mind. For as long as she had been _'a women'_, Celine was the victim of her father's twisted fantasies. He'd whisper in her ear that she looked like a younger version her mother, and that's what had attracted him to her. Her mother, aged and bitter, would drink from morning till noon. She'd slur atrocities at young Celine, such as how she was the reason she was no longer beautiful, and how men wouldn't stop to look at her anymore or so much as give her the time of day. She had even gone as far as to accuse Celine of _stealing_ her husband away from her after walking in on her father violating her in her childhood bed. She shut her eyes as she heard her father turning the door knob. _Veuillez ne pas me blesser. Veuillez ne pas me blesser._

"Why is this door closed, Celine?!" Her father's booming voice and thick French accent erupted through the eerie silence of the Montclaire household. She flinched, "I'm sorry papa, please forgive me! Mama told me to go to my room and-"

"_Fermes ta gueule__!_" he roared. He stalked over to where she was sitting on the bed and yanked her by her pretty blonde hair, "I'm tired, and I can't have you putting up too much of a fight this time, so every time you decide to open your mouth to scream, I will strike you." She sobbed staring into her father's impassive face, "Is that clear?" She nodded. He grabbed at the hem of her shirt and began to pull it up, revealing her sea foam green cotton bra. He snickered, "Looks like we're going to have to get you a new one, ma chérie. You're getting bigger." He rubbed her through the material. Celine kept her eyes shut as silent tears streamed down her rosy cheeks. Her father brought his finger under her chin forcing her face up, "Look at me, Celine." She shook her head,_ no_.

He sighed, "I'll hit you if you don't. Please don't make me mad."

"Papa, please-" Her father's hand collided with her face. She fell back on the bed, clutching the side of her face as her body was racked with sobs. She tried her best to keep her mouth shut, but a hiccup managed to escape her lips. Her father sucked in a breath, "So you're going to play games now, huh?"

She shook her head rapidly, "No please, papa! It was a mistake!" Another merciless blow to her thin frame elicited an almost soundless whimper from the girl. She was finding it difficult not to cry out against the excruciating pain that throbbed at her side, but with the thought of another lashing in the back of her mind, she managed. _Quelqu'un m'aider s'il vous plait._

He grabbed at her arm and jerked her into a sitting position on the bed, "Now," he said gruffly, "is my sweet Celine going to be a good little angel for her papa? Or is papa going to need the belt tonight?" She furiously shook her head saying, _no_, while reciting a mental prayer. "Good girl. Daddy has worked a long day, and he's waited all day to be with his sweet angel," he leaned to place a firm kiss on her quivering lips, "I want tonight to be special for you. I want to make you cum hard for me." He grinned, stroking her between her legs. She sighed softly, "Yes papa."

"You like that, ma chérie?" He began rubbing circles through her panties, Celine gasped lightly before letting out a moan as the sensation overtook her. She squirmed under his precise touch, arching her back as he speed up his motions. She placed a hand on her left breast and rubbed herself through the material. Observing this reaction, he pushed aside her panties and slipped a finger through her tight slick warmth. He chuckled as he heard his daughter hiss in delight, "Oh we're going to have fun tonight indeed…" Despite trying to keep herself in check, a few stray tears slipped down Celine's face. She was disgusted by how her body betrayed her. By how she rolled her hips to meet her father's intrusive fingers that ravished her, faster and faster, as her panting increased in volume and frequency. Bending his head down to eye level with her womanhood, he began teasing her clit with tantalizing flicks of his tongue. Her body rebelling against her once more, convulsed against her father's eager mouth. Her thighs spread apart wider for him and she rocked back and forth encouraging his greedy onslaught. "Ahhhhhhhh!" She cried out as her body shuddered in its climax, her core ablaze as it erupted, spilling onto her father's long skilled fingers.

He moved to kiss the soft insides of her thighs and rubbed the outer skin, holding her legs wide open for his proper inspection. "Now, wasn't that a delicious release?" He leaned down onto her, gently biting the skin below her ear. She groaned and rocked her hips in pleasure when her father pressed himself against her burning slit. He chuckled lightly, "Can't wait to have papa inside you, ma chérie?" He knelled before her entrance, unbuttoning his pants as he went on, "I always knew my sweet Celine would be daddy's little whore to suck and fuck him. Just never this eagerly…" He got up from the bed for a moment to pull his pants off- along with his black briefs, revealing his large rock hard cock. Getting back onto the bed he moved to lay next to Celine, "Get between my legs and suck." Obeying silently, she crawled between her father's legs and began to stroke him lightly, eliciting a soft hiss from her father. "Good girl…my sweet Celine…_fuck_!" He threw his head back the moment her tongue flicked against his throbbing tip. Clutching her hair in a fist, he plunged his cock straight into her hot little mouth. She gagged against his swelling member, "Ahhhhhgggg, shit!" he cried out as she took him entirely into her mouth. He moved her head up and down against his length, watching her through heavy lidded eyes. "_Yes._" He hissed as he felt himself about to erupt, "Get on your back." He ordered, to which Celine obeyed. He positioned himself at her entrance, and he slowly pushed himself into her. Celine moaned in pleasure as he began moving his hips back and forth. She met his torturous motions with ones of her own.

"Ahhhhhh!"

"_Yes!_"

"Mmmmmhmmmm….Oh! Ahhhh!"

"You're _so fucking tight!_"

He placed his hands around her neck as his thrusts grew more frenzied, "Say 'fuck me papa'."

"_Fuck me papa! Ahhhhhhh!_"

"Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

"_Ahhhh! I love having your cock inside me!_"

He leaned down and bit her nipple, causing Celine to cry out. "That's what I want, I want you to scream for me. _Ahhhhhh…_say 'I love you're big cock in my pussy, daddy'."

"_I love you're big cock in my pussy, daddy! Ahhhhh!" _She screamed as her nerves gave, and her orgasm rocked through her body. Passion spilled out of her, coating her father's unprotected member. "_Fuck yes! Ahhhhhh!_" Her father released his seed deep inside her heat. He panted as he looked down on his daughter's used body, which glimmered with a thin sheen of sweat. "So beautiful…" he murmured. He lied next to her on the bed caressing her as her crooned sweet loving words into her ear. She fought the urge to throw up when positioned them both into a spooning position, and told her "This is how it's meant to be. You and papa, together always." He gave her a sweet kiss at the top of her head and as soon as his breathing was normalized he fell asleep.

Celine lied there, thoughts of what had just transpired filled her mind. When she heard her father begin to snore she knew he was in a deep sleep so she curled into herself and sobbed silently as the last lines of a familiar song flowed from a small radio placed near the windowsill of a nearby neighbor's window;

_It was good what we did yesterday._

_And I'd do it once again._

_The fact that you are married,_

_Only proves, you're my best friend,_

_But it's truly, truly a sin._

_Linger on, your pale blue eyes,_

_Linger on, your pale blue eyes..._

**Authors's Note: Thanks for reading! I know it's pretty disturbing and at one point you may even be thinking that Celine actually wanted her father to do those things to her, but she really didn't. When people who are abused recount their experiences (from what I read) they sometimes mention how they felt disgusted by how their bodies betray them during sexual assault. That's what happened to Celine. Again, remember that this wasn't the first time her father abused her, so she already knows the drill- if she doesn't go along with what her father says she gets a beating (as her father mentioned early on in the story). **

**I rated the story 'M' for a reason…again, it's disturbing. **

**Up until maybe early this month (May 2014) I thought that whenever Cassie (Cassandra Clare) said that Celine was abused, she meant that she was beaten. But I was reading a forum one day earlier this month and I'm pretty sure someone insinuated that she was sexually abused. I tweeted Cassie about it asking her if she was just beaten or sexually abused, but I never got a response…so yeah…I figured I'd write about it. I've been meaning to write a TMI based fanfic, but I just never get around to it. Actually I have a story that I started, but it's still on chapter one because I can't seem to get it to be perfect. This is a one-shot so I didn't really care too much about descriptions; I just wanted to write whatever just flowed through my head at the time…so yeah. **

**P.S: The song at the end is called 'Pale Blue Eyes' by The Velvet Underground.**

**P.S.S: Also, I don't speak French (I was learning but I never continued) so I hope that the French parts are accurate and make sense. **


	2. Hope & Tea

She sat in the living room eating a bowl of a cereal called _Fruity Pebbles_. She savored the rich flavors that met her tongue and observered as the cereal colors fuse themselves into the milk and swirl around as she moved the bowl from side to side. She had seen many mundane's at the market with this particular cereal box in their carts and decided to try it. She smiled to herself, as she was alone for the first time in a week, _peace at last_, she thought cheerfully. She was reading a book her instructor had recommended called, _Wuthering Heights_. She thought the book was a little odd at first- if not scary. But now that it was clear that there was a romantic conflict, she could hardly put it down.

She loved reading romance novels. It was what some would call '_a guilty pleasure'_. Celine knew that true love existed- despite her parents open dislike for one another, and her- she'd observed the tender love between the Paris Institute's guardians; the care they readily give to their children who- in Celine's opinion- were ungrateful brats. They took _everything_ they had for granted. Their upstanding family name, their parents unswerving devotion, and even the servants that were at their beck and call. She'd give anything to be surrounded with smiles and hugs and laughter every day. To not just be another random Shadowhunter in a city- but a notable Shadowhunter with a prestigious lineage and impressive fighting skills. To not have to clean up after her mother when she was done regurgitating the all of the booze she'd ingested all over their bathroom floor. Instead, for some reason unbeknownst to her, she was born into what she deemed the equivalent of hell on earth. She couldn't wait to experience love for the very first time. She wondered what her future husband looked like, what he was doing at that very moment. A small smile crept onto her face at the thought of having a baby with said man. She knew she wanted a boy for sure- and that she wanted to live in Idris. She could only hope for the future.

She frowned wondering what would happen if she ran away from home for good- if she ran away from the Shadow hunters for good. It's not that she didn't enjoy her mandate from heaven, but she just couldn't see herself- a broken little French girl- defending the world from evil. She had also suspected that perhaps the other children she trained with knew about what her father did to her at night. She flinched at the memory of Jeremy Pontmercy knocking her off her feet with a swing of his wooden training seraph blade and mocking, _Oh what's the matter Celine? Daddy banged you up too hard last night?"_ _The other children laughed along with him, as if they all knew. Her eyes widened as her face reddened in embarrassment - only making them laugh harder. She got up and ran out of the training room before the first tear could fall._

_The only reason _they _would know would be if their parents had suspected something and told them,_ Celine thought, _they're all too self-absorbed to notice anything- they couldn't have made the observation themselves. No. Their parents _must _know or at least suspect that something is wrong._ She paused, and let the information sink in, _but then if they think something is wrong, why wouldn't they say something to the Clave? Why wouldn't they send someone to remove me from this home?_

The Clave already knew about Celine's mother being an alcoholic. Her father however, was a different story. They didn't have much of an opinion of him, as their family wasn't notable for anything, but as far as Celine knew, he was seen as an honest man who was kind enough to care for his _sick_ wife. She snickered at the mere notion of her father being a '_kind' _man. The only kindness he'd ever shown her were the nights he came home _too_ tired to even walk up to her room to begin their _'father-daughter-love-making'_.

The front door slammed opened revealing her father- who at the moment appeared haggard looking. Two big men- Shadowhunters- were holding him up, a light sheen of sweat radiated off their pale skin and starkly contrasting black runes. Celine sprung up from the love seat, "_Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?_" genuine concern lacing her voice. The younger looking man with cinnamon colored hair glanced at her momentarily before redirecting his attention to her father who was coughing violently now. "_Iblis_ demons." he said hurriedly.

From what Celine had studied, she knew that _Iblis _demons tend to attack in groups and surrounded their prey. "_Celine_? That's your name right?" the same man asked, she nodded. "Your father mentioned that you knew how to make good healing tisanes. Could you please start on one for your father?" She nodded, rushing over to their small kitchen to begin her concoction.

As she moved around the kitchen pulling out ingredients from jars lined on the far side of the counter, she observed- demurely- the younger Shadowhunter who was drawing _izrates_ on her father. His hair was a very light shade of brown, almost like the color of her mother's toast this morning. When he first came through the door and shot her a quick glance, she noticed his hazel eyes. Even from the distance they stood from each other, she could see a small ring of a cool blue that surrounded his pupil. _How handsome_, she thought. Noticing the water boil, she shut off the flame and poured her father a cup of the tisane.

She carried it gingerly over to where he was seated and sat beside him, "Here papa," she said in the most loving way she could muster, "its ginger and lemongrass." She held it up to her lips and blew, attempting to cool the very hot beverage. Her father made a pained noise as he clutched at his side, "But it's too hot now." He whined. She smoothed his hair back, "I'm blowing on it now, okay? It'll cool down in a minute." She continued cooling the tisane with her breath as her father continued his miserable groaning. He was an awful patient.

Celine dared a quick glance at the cute Shadowhunter and found him already looking at her, his expression unreadable. He looked away quickly, his cheeks reddening- though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Celine blushed furiously, having been caught looking at him. Her father's sudden sharp intake of breath brought her out of her thoughts instantly, "_Papa?_" The two men darted over to his side; both pulling out their stele's to draw more _izrates_ on him. Celine stood up from her seat beside him to give them room. She placed the tisane on the cluttered end table. She puffed out a breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. She may have felt an intense and deep seeded antipathy for her father, but a small part of her was sincerely concerned with her father's condition.

_He wasn't always this way_, she thought wistfully. She thought back to a time when she was around seven and her father took her to _Idris_ for the very first time. He had bought her a toy seraph blade and had taken her to a little café near the town square that served the most delicious French napoleon's- _her favorite_ _pastry ever_. He gave her a piggy-back ride through the winding streets of Alicante, her straw colored hair flying all around her as she squealed with pure unadulterated joy.

But that was then and this was now. No going back to that time. Not ever.

She stared down at the tea, swirling white clouds of heat rising from the cup. Her gaze glazed over the cluttered mess. Hairpins, a spare pair of keys, oodles of random pens- some that didn't have any more ink in them- a stack of letters from today's mail- the one on top was addressed to her.

Celine felt as if time were suspended as she read who the sender was: _The Academy of Alicante._ She shook her head thinking she imagined it and re-read the envelope, this time picking it up to get a closer look.

_Dean Townsend_

_The Academy of Alicante _

_Alicante, Idris_

She blinked through the tears that threatened to spill from her teal colored eyes. "_Celine!_" She tore her eyes away from the letter in her hands looking towards the couch where her father was writhing in pain. "The tea! Please!" he called desperately. She threw the letter into the waistband of her loose fitted pants and reached for the cup bringing it over to him. "Here papa, I made it _extra_ strong for you."

He ignored her, seizing the cup and guzzling down its contents. He made a noise of satisfaction before leaning back against the couch. She gently took the cup from his hand bringing it to the sink to wash.

She lathered up the sponge and washed away as her thoughts flitted back to the envelope behind her back. _They couldn't _possibly_ want _me_ at the Academy. How could they? They could use Jeremy Pontmercy or someone else more useful- defiantly not a scholar. No, they need warriors._ She continued that train of thought until she was taken by surprise when she felt the envelope yanked from her backside. She twirled- expecting to see her father- but was met with a pair of hazel-blue eyes. He looked surprised as he blew out a low whistle, "_The Academy_, huh?" he chuckled as he balanced the letter in his hands, "It's heavy too." He winked at her, "Probably means you got in."

She stammered momentarily a taken back by the boldness of his gesture. She gulped and shook her head finally finding her voice, "I don't understand- I never applied."

He shrugged, "Well maybe an instructor you work with recommended you. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibilities."

It didn't matter what any of her instructors thought of her, her father would _never_ let her leave. She felt a surge of hatred for the man ripple through her as tears prickled in her eyes. The boy smiled mistaking the tears welling up in her eyes as a sign of happiness, "You're going to _love it._ Trust me- the campus is a sight to see. It's so beautiful…it rivals that of Paris in the spring if you ask me."

Not wanting to be rude, she gave him a small smile and took the letter back from his grasp. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go read this in my room now that my father's alright."

"Bien sûr!"

She hopped up the steps two at a time and dashed into her room, making sure to lock the door behind her. She sat at the edge of her bed as she viciously tore away the envelop revealing the coveted letter and small pamphlet. She read through the letter speedily, her mind not believing what she was reading. She grinned merrily- though still disbelieving- once she finished the letter she fell back against her bed. She could hardly contain the squeal that erupted from her. She kicked her feet out excitedly, not knowing what else what to do with them, and she began dancing about the room in a sort of happy jig.

"_What's all that noise up there, Celine?!_" her mother's voice jerking her out of her momentary happiness. She scrambled to hide the letter in her bottom drawer, along with the envelope and pamphlet that had fallen to the ground. "_Celine?!_" Her mother's irritated voice was nearing, her footsteps hitting each step of the staircase hard, alerting Celine to her approaching arrival.

She rushed over to the door to unlock it and hurried back over to sit on her bed, feigning normalcy. Her mother clambered in a moment later- the strong scent of roses filling the entryway. "_Are you trying to make a hole in the floor!?_ Quit your jumping, or you'll get what's coming to you!" Celine nodded, knowing that her mother was only acting somewhat civil due to the presence of the Shadowhunter's downstairs, "I'm sorry mother. _Pardonnez-moi._"

Her mother turned to leave- huffing as she went- and grumbled something under her breath that Celine failed to catch. She listened to her mother's steps as she descended the stairs.

* * *

Celine smiled happily as she listened to the lyrics of a pretty song float through her bedroom window from a nearby neighbors home.

_I need a man who'll take a chance,_

_On a love that burns hot enough to last,_

_So when the night falls,_

_My lonely heart calls. _

_My lonely heart calls_, she thought dreamily. She couldn't help but imagine what it'd be like if she actually _could_ go to the Academy. She grinned to herself as she created scenarios in her head of her very first day. She'd most likely portal through from the Institute and meet a checkpoint Clave official on the other side. From there she'd walk from the Gard to the Academy which is located not far from Angel's Square. There she'd meet up with other young Shadowhunter's, like herself, who are new and she'd befriend them all. Then they'd all go up to their new dorms to unpack, and afterwards they'd all go explore Alicante together- possibly stopping by the bakery with the _divine _French napoleons.

She giggled at all of the possibilities her mind could conjure up before she heard a faint knock at her door which pulled her back into reality.

She paused. After what she had witnessed downstairs earlier, she could've sworn her father would've been too tired to stop by her room for his nightly visit. She cleared her throat before croaking out, "Come in."

Her father poked his head through the door, light bursting into the small dark bedroom as his gruff voice pierced the silence, "_Celine_, ma chérie." He moved to sit beside her on the bed, "Could you make me some more of that healing tisane?"

Knowing what would happen if she said no, she smiled at him sweetly before responding, "Of course, papa." She moved to get off the bed when he reached for her hand, "Have you been studying runes at the Institute?"

She blinked, surprised at the question. Her father had never talked much about her studies except that if she got a bad report from her instructor she'd get hit. "Uh- yes," she stammered, "we're studying the runes of love right now."

He shook his head, "How about _izrates_? Do you know how to draw one?"

She nodded. _Izrates_ were one of the first runes she had learned. It came in handy when she'd receive a hard beating and needed to heal cuts and bruises for fear of her instructors seeing. "Yes papa."

He beamed at her- genuinely, "Could you draw one on me?" he pulled a stele out of his left pants pocket and held it out for her, "It would really help me."

She stared at him. Was he honestly asking her to draw a rune on him? He wouldn't have thought that she could easily draw a different rune on him which could consequentially knock him out, or paralyze him. She gulped, as the last thought was tempting. She reached forward for his forearm and began to draw what he had requested- much to her annoyance. Her father ruffled her hair when she was done, "Thank you," he placed a finger under her chin and brought her lips to his. His mouth was warm against hers. He sucked on her bottom lip gently before prodding her lips open with his tongue. She opened her mouth wider for him and he eagerly assaulted her tongue. Celine allowed him to take control of the kiss, as she usually did, and placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. Mistaking her gesture as a signal for more, he pulled her flush against him, trapping her in his embrace. She gasped lightly into his mouth at the amount of pressure he was using to hold her against him.

He clutched her backside, giving it a hard squeeze, before lifting her onto his lap. She shivered as she felt the hardness of her father's member through her thin pajama shorts. Not having let go of her bum, he gripped her as he moved her over his bulging erection, back and forth. They moaned into each other's mouths at the sensation. She broke the kiss gasping for air; her father began to move down to kiss the length of her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. She closed her eyes, clamping her mouth shut as to try and prevent from moaning wantonly at her father's ministrations. He accelerated the pace, grinding his daughter's sweet spot harder into his throbbing length.

She whimpered as the nerves in her clit ignited at the heated rubbing sensation. Burying her head in her father's neck, she cried out as the first waves of her orgasm rocked through her frame and drenched her panties. Her father's orgasm followed shortly after, making him shudder against her as he huskily yelled out her name.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before he kissed the top of her head and said, "The tea, Celine?"

Still dazed, it took her a moment for her to register what he was talking about before she lifted her head from his neck, "Yes papa."

* * *

**I know this **_**was**_** initially a one-shot, but I got some inspiration throughout the week to add another chapter. I don't know if I should make this an entire story where we see how Celine**_** used**_** to live with her family and then have it progress to her meeting Valentine and joining the Circle- marrying Stephen and all that jazz. I didn't get a ton of response from the readers, (I know that most people don't look up Celine fan-fics) but if I like the story I'll continue regardless- as I **_**should**_** be practicing my writing anyways… **

**Anyhow, if you do like the story favorite it or just comment- doesn't have to be anything fancy, you could just review to say hi, just so I know you're there :) **


	3. Cupcakes and Misconceptions

"Good work, Celine! Now just do a flip as you come down." Professor Fairfox called up to her from the training mats down below.

Today the class was practicing close-range fighting with concealed daggers, and acrobatics. Much to her surprise, Celine had managed to survive the first half of the lesson. She had gone head to head with Jessamine Cartwright- a girl whose preferred weapon _was_ concealed daggers. She had sliced out at Celine's arm, leaving about a three inch shallow gash on her shoulder. Celine was fighting on defense the entire time- much to her chagrin. She had gotten the upper hand for a short lived moment when she crouched down to swipe Jessamine off her feet with the swing of her leg. She'd fallen on her bum, but she kicked out at Celine, hitting her square in the chest. Hastily, Jessamine hopped right back up on her feet and drove the dagger down- stopping just before the tip could touch the gear right above Celine's heart.

"I win." The pale blonde girl announced triumphantly with a brilliantly white smile before sliding her daggers back into their respective scabbards which hung low at her sides. Celine hadn't expected to win, but the loss was frustrating nonetheless.

"_Three, two, one!_" Celine called out before jumping off the fifty-foot high balance beam. As she quickly descended, she got in a few flips and a spins before landing squarely on her feet. She stood still for a moment, making sure she had re-attained complete balance before lifting her arms up and smiling, "Ta-da!"

"_Magnifique_," Professor Fairfox clapped along with the other students- minus Jeremy. Her red headed professor's golden eyes gleamed with pride. Between him and Ms. Dieudonné, he was her favorite professor. He'd always had a soft spot for Celine- despite the usual nature of most instructors who were reserved and a bit cold at times- Mr. Fairfox had been a breath of fresh air for everyone here at the Institute from his very first day. He had moved from the London Institute- claiming he wanted to find himself a French woman to marry, as the accent gave him- what he called- _delicious chills. _

When she'd first heard the news of the potentially new instructor, Celine had looked up his family, as she was curious about him. She'd discovered that the Fairfox's were founded at the turn of the 14th century, and they were _very_ wealthy. A clever streak was said to run through the family- so skilled in manipulation, it was rumored that the founder Lucien Fairfox made his fortune from cheating wealthy mundane lords. She didn't know what to think of all of it, but her research hadn't alleviated any of her nervousness about meeting the man. _If anything_, she was now more afraid to meet him than ever. Images of cunning foxes with razor sharp teeth and unforgiving stares raced through her mind whenever Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy mentioned his emanate arrival to the children.

She was fairly young when he arrived in Paris. Her distrust grew when she discovered he was a red head. She'd heard stories of gingers stealing souls and all the like, making her fearful to attend her first lesson with him. She smiled inwardly as she remembered walking through the French doors of the library for her rune lesson. Professor Fairfox sat atop the grand wooden desk that her old instructor- Professor Whitescar- had once sat behind. Jeremy, Jessamine, and Sophia were already sitting in their respective seats impatiently awaiting her arrival.

"Well, look who _decided _to show up." Jeremy said, his twelve year old voice cracking slightly. The girls giggle as Jeremy's face reddened, "Shut up!" he exclaimed.

Fairfox ignored them as his bright topaz colored eyes swept over Celine assessing the young girl. He brought his eyes up to hers and beamed, "Welcome to rune creation 101! You must be Celine." he hopped off the desk gracefully before padding over to her by the door. He stretched out his hand as if for a shake, to which Celine just stared at. After an internal battle with herself as to whether she'd lose her soul in making skin to skin contact with the man, she took his hand and gave him a quick shake before snatching it back to her side. He chuckled, "I'm your new instructor, Professor Fairfox. And don't worry," he added with a wink, "I won't steal your soul."

She blushed furiously at the memory. She couldn't believe she had been _that_ naïve.

"The rest of you need to be able to jump off that beam before I can move you onto your next lesson. Until then, we'll keep practicing off the thirty-foot beam." He looked down at his watch, "Alrighty roo, class is over. Go shower, change, and meet Ms. Dieudonné in the greenhouse for your next lesson." He waved over his shoulder as he walked out of the training room, "I've got a _hot _date."

Celine perked up at this, "A date?" she looked over at the watch hanging on the far left wall, "But its twelve o'clock!"

Not slowing his pace as he approached the doors he called out, "Hot _brunch_ date."

Sophia huffed playfully, "If you would've asked meI _totally _would've gone out with you." Fairfox's voice could be heard from down the hall as he roared with laughter, "Not a chance, sweetie!"

Suddenly feeling awkward at being alone with the other kids, Celine went over to her cubby where she'd stashed her bag. Sophia was collecting the daggers to stash them back into the weapons room when Jeremy walked up to the brunette and said, "Nice view from back here, Sophia."

She turned to him- stunned. A bright pink flush colored her sharp cheekbones before she spat out in Portuguese, "_Seu porco._"

Sophia was very light skinned for a Brazilian, Celine thought idly. She had dark brown hair, with ice blue eyes that made for a striking contrast. She could remember the day Sophia had arrived at the Institute as well, "I'm just living with my father now." She'd overheard her say to Jeremy and Edgar- Jeremy's little brother. "My mother was killed during a routine vampire raid in some club in Rio-" her Portuguese accent was thick with sorrow, however, she held her chin up high as she continued, "but she died with great honor."

Celine felt a sting of pain for the girl. Celine didn't _exactly_ know what it felt like to lose a loved one in battle- as she had never experienced that _sort_ of loss. But she could sympathize with the girl- as she _had_ felt the loss of losing a once loving father to the shell of a man who may as well be dead to her. "But why would didn't you just stay in Rio? I heard my mother say that your father ran the Institute there- the largest Institute in South America. Why would he leave?" Jeremy asked- rudely. Sophia played with a stray curl- not meeting his eyes- when she said, "It was just too hard for us to stay there. The Institute felt haunted afterwards- it wasn't home anymore. My father told me he had extended family here in Paris," she glanced at Jessamine who was sitting at her side, "the Cartwright's. So…yeah, here I am."

Jessamine bounced up and down in her seat, her pale blonde hair bobbed around her head with her. She squealed and threw her arms around her cousin, "_Here you are!_ And I'm _so_ happy!" she pulled away and stared at Sophia- who was wide-eyed, "It's like I have a _sister!_"

She'd examined the two girls closely; however, Celine didn't see any resemblance between the two beside's their eye color. Where Sophia had unruly thick curly brown hair, Jessamine had straight thin white-gold hair that framed her face like a halo. Jessamine's beauty was unearthly- however she was somewhat cruel, making her unattractive. Sophia was gorgeous- as per usual among South American women- but she had more of an enigmatic vibe to her, which is what- Celine suspected- had drawn Jeremy to her.

Well, that and the fact that she could belly dance.

"Geez, relax, _chica_." Jeremy said with a smirk, "I just wanted to see if what they say about Brazilian girl's butts is true- and," he said with a wink "I'm glad to know it's not just a myth."

Sophia- red faced and fuming- lifted one of the many daggers she held in her hands and let it fly, straight for Jeremy's arm. His eyes widened in horror and shock. Clearly he hadn't expected this sort of reaction from the girl. Despite this, he skillfully maneuvered out of the objects path and watched as it hit a straw dummy near the end of the room. He spun, his voice seething, "_Are you insane?_"

Sophia puffed her chest out indignantly, "Yes. Now you know not to mess with me."

She ignored Jeremy's fuming as she walked across the room for the dagger. Celine watched the entire scene with her mouth agape. She was brought out of her trance like state when Jessamine's irritated voice came from behind, "I need to shower, Montclaire. Can you _please_ let me get by?"

She yanked her bag out of her cubby, moving out of the way so Jessamine could get her things, "Sorry Jessamine." She mumbled before she trekked over to the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

"Here it is," Ms. Dieudonné whispered reverently, "_the remedy for _everything_ but death- black seed_."

Sophia raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow before whispering to Jessamine, "_Why is she whispering?_" to which Jessamine just shrugged, shaking her head. Ms. Dieudonné's class was very interesting to Celine, as she loved getting new tisane recipes from her teacher, and learning about many herbal remedies. Though she had to admit, most things could be fixed with an _izrate_.

"The earliest record of its cultivation and use come from ancient Egypt. Black seed oil, in fact, was found in Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamun's tomb, dating back to approximately three-thousand three-hundred years ago. In Arabic cultures, black cumin is known as _Habbatul barakah_, meaning the 'seed of blessing.'" Ms. Dieudonné tapped Jeremy on the shoulder lightly, as he was beginning to fall asleep. He shot up from his chair shaking his head, looking a bit disoriented. Celine bit back a laugh. "It is also believed that the Islamic prophet Mohammed said of it that it is "a remedy for all diseases except death."

She raised her hand before asking, "What plant does it come from?"

Ms. Dieudonné smiled brightly, "Excellent question, Celine- I was just getting to that. It comes from the plant called _Nigella Sativa._"

"So what can we do with it? Is this going to be on our final?" Jessamine drawled in a bored voice. Ms. Dieudonné nodded, "Yes, of course." Jeremy groaned, "So we have to memorize _everything_ it heals? How is that even fair? The final is next month."

Ms. Dieudonné adjusted her glasses, looking rather unfazed, "That's ample enough time, Mr. Pontmercy. And you needn't not memorize _every_ _single_ ailment it heals." The class blew out a breath in relief.

She clasped her hands in front of her before continuing, "Now on with its healing properties!"

* * *

"Anyone want any trail mix? I picked it up from the gourmet market today." Ms. Pontmercy questioned the ravenous children seated before her. A chorus of _no thank you's_ resounded from around the dining table. Jeremy chewed loudly on his food- beef and potatoes- before his mother shot him a sharp look. He sheepishly cast his gaze down to his plate as he closed his mouth to eat. Edgar banged his small hands on the table and was earned with everyone's attention. He smiled, his front bottom tooth missing, "Are the cookies done yet, _maman_?"

She huffed exasperatedly, "_Edgar,_" she began sternly, "I told you to _wait_. You need to be patient! And the cookies are for _everyone_." Edgar whined at that.

Sophia rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Celine, "Jessamine and I are going to go see some mundane movie called _Dirty Dancing_, wanna tag along?"

Celine knew her father would never allow her an outing, ever. And she knew that both Sophia _and _Jessamine knew this as well. _They're just being nice_, Celine thought. However, ever since that day in the training room with Jeremy and all of them laughing at her, she hadn't felt comfortable around them since. She swallowed her juice hastily before responding sheepishly, "Uh- well, you know my dad won't let me…"

Sophia nodded understanding, before flashing a pretty smile and saying, "Betcha' can't wait till you turn eighteen, huh?" Celine smiled lopsidedly as she nodded, though she knew in her heart that age probably wouldn't change a thing about her situation.

* * *

She decided to take a short walk before hopping on the metro to head home, and found herself walking down Rue de la Harpe. She watched as a group of mundane boys wearing uniform shamelessly flirted with two women who were clearly _not _interested. She rolled her eyes and she shoved her hands into her pockets as she continued her stroll. She adored when the sun was hot like this. She loved the tingly feeling she felt on her skin, and the golden tan that came along with it. It rained quite a bit in Paris, so days like this were spent mostly outdoors basking in whatever remaining sunshine the day would provide. Most of the time she'd just watch from her second story window as the mundanes bustled about in their colorful clothing and oblivious smiles.

She continued to wander about when she heard her name called.

"_Celine!_ Wait up!" A familiar redhead called from across the small street not too far ahead of her. Her eyebrows shot up, "_Professor Fairfox?_" she called back picking up her pace. He waited for at the corner her as she crossed the street to meet him. He grinned at her as she came closer, "Ma cherie, what are you doing around here?"

Celine grinned back and shrugged, "I just wanted to enjoy the sun while it lasted."

He chuckled humorously, "I understand." He held out his arm, "May I walk you home?"

_Walk me home? What would father think…?_ Nevertheless, she intertwined her arm with his, "Sure."

They walked in silence for quite some time before Professor Fairfox spoke, "How is everything, Celine?"

She looked up at him, surprised by the question. "Everything is well, Professor." Looking to deviate the conversation from herself she quickly asked, "How did your brunch date go?"

He groaned, a hand coming up to cover his eyes as he breathed, "I don't even want to _talk_ about it."

She laughed heartily, "Really? _That bad_, huh?" He shook his head, "Let just say some women are not worth it."

Celine grimaced, nodding. She knew her mother was an _impossible_ woman. She didn't even understand how her parents could've fallen in love with each other- if they were ever in love _at all._ She silently prayed that her Professor would meet a good woman- one who wouldn't turn him bitter like she suspected her mother had done to her father.

As they turned right onto Boulevard Saint-Michel, Celine could see they were approaching metro station Odéon. "That is where you take line four, correct?" Professor Fairfox asked as he pointed a hairy hand at the station. She nodded, turning to him. "Yes, thank you for walking with me, Professor. I'll see you at the Institute tomorrow."

Professor Fairfox hesitated, "Actually, there was a place I wanted to visit around where you live. Do you mind if I ride with you?"

She blinked, "Oh- uh, sure. What place? Maybe I can take you?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder as he led her forward, "It's a bakery called _'Miss Cupcake'_. Have you been there before?" She smiled, remembering their mouth-watering chestnut cream and ginger cupcakes that her father brought home by the dozen in the winter- around the time mundanes celebrated Christmas. "Of course I have! It's one of my favorites, actually." She grinned up at him, "You should really try the orange flower water-rose cupcake. It's refreshing."

He stared ahead musing, "Sounds exotic."

Professor Fairfox hummed at her side as he carried two large bags of cupcake boxes. He'd tried one of _every_ cupcake in the small shop and settled on four dozen of the best flavors- being chocolate, orange flower water-rose, hazelnut crepe, and the American classic- red velvet. The girl behind the counter joked about whether he'd eat all of them himself. He'd smirked- suggestively- before leaning in and whispering something in the young mundane girl's ear that made her blush and giggle.

Once they left the shop Fairfox insisted on walking her the whole way home, as it was already five-thirty in the afternoon, and if her father was waiting for her, he could explain what had happened. Celine was a bit nervous about the idea of Professor Fairfox showing up with her at home but, in order to avoid suspicion, she went along with the plan.

They trekked up a long street lined with trees every few feet. Colorful houses that connected to each other wound up the avenues that lead to Celine's neighborhood. She slowed her pace as she caught sight of her home. As always, she'd wish she could stay out longer and enjoy the day- or go catch a movie with Sophia and Jessamine- but alas, she was a prisoner of sorts. Fairfox seemed to notice the sudden slump of her shoulders before he furrowed his brows and questioned, "Is something wrong?"

She brought her eyes up to met his momentarily wondering what would happen if she told him right then and there about everything her father had done to her. The hitting, the verbal abuse, the countless death threats her mother would spew at her even before breakfast. And the icing to top it all off- the way her father would sneak into her room after dark to hold her down on the bed as he impaled his bulging member into her night after night after night after night. She looked away quickly to blink away the tears before she cleared her throat, "Nothing at all. I'm just sad to see the day is almost over."

He looked at her for a moment before he smiled, "There are always brighter tomorrows, Celine. Never forget that." She returned his smile- though less enthusiastically.

She reached into the front pocket of her messenger bag and pulled out her keys. "I live right there." She said pointing to an overall tan colored brick three story home. The brick bordering to top of the windows was a pale crème, while the bottom of the windows was bordered by flowers in window boxes- though you couldn't even tell there were boxes there to hold up the flowers, as they were being elegantly concealed by the white bacopa flowers that spilled over the sides. Yellow million bells, coral twinspur, orange snapdragons – and just a peak of spiky cordyline- where the centerpieces of the bouquets set before the windows. Dark green ivy grew on the front of the house, stretching up to the second story window there. To the right of the home was an enclosed garden with green shrubs and a medium sized tree with russet colored leaves. Fairfox blinked, "Wow! Your mother must like flowers, huh?"

Celine shook her head, "No, I maintain the flowers- I plant and tend to them. My mother is…you know." She pointed to the garden at the right, "All of those scrubs hide the small patio we have. The neighbors have one too that was once connected to ours, but my father set up a fence to separate them."

He nodded, "Ahh…I see." They crossed the street when the light changed, "Now I can see why Ms. Dieudonné is always raving over you to Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy."

Celine approached the door and unlocked it quickly before opening it to allow her Professor inside. "Are you thirsty?" she asked. She knew she shouldn't be inviting him inside, but how could she not offer the man a drink after he'd escorted her the entire way home?

He set the bags down at his feet and stretched his arms out yawning, "Sure- can you make coffee?"

She blanched, "Coffee but-" she looked over to the clock on the wall, "its fifteen minutes to six!" He shrugged, picking up his bags and ambling through the door, "Don't worry about me, love. I have a long night ahead of me with these _delicious _cupcakes I bought."

She laughed quietly, as to not alert her mother or father that she had arrived, "You really mean you're going to eat them all?" He grinned at her, "Who knows?"

She dropped her bag onto the crème colored walnut fauteuil before padding into the kitchen to start on the coffee. "We have dark roast, light roast, and french roast- which is your poison?"

He appeared in the kitchen a moment later, "Well, I'm more of a medium roast guy, but dark roast will do." He sauntered over to the fridge, opening it and examining its contents. She stared in disbelief, "You do know it's rude to open someone else fridge without permission right?"

He turned his head to her then, a frown on his face, "You guys manage to eat _all_ that bacon? That's pretty much all there is in here besides a gallon of milk, half a block of cheese, bread, butter, and about five cases of beer."

Celine shrugged, remaining passive, "The freezer has lots of frozen dinners and all that stuff. That's what we eat. And," she pointed to the boxes of cereal and crackers atop the fridge, "I eat lots of cereal too. I also make a killer cheese sandwich."

He shook his head still staring, "But love, that's not enough for a Shadowhunter to-"

"I _thought_ I heard you come in." She froze as she heard her father's booming voice come from the other room. Fairfox noticed her tense.

"I can't believe you'd think I'd be _stupid_ enough to not notice the time!" He roared as he stepped into the kitchen. He froze as his eyes landed on Professor Fairfox, who was looking shocked. "Mr. Montclaire…" he began carefully as if not to frighten a wild animal, "I'm Celine's instructor- Professor Fairfox. We met a few times. I'm very sorry about keeping Celine out so late, I asked her if she could help me find a bakery around here and she obliged. I actually bought her a dozen orange flower water-rose cupcakes for her trouble." He smiled and gestured over to the two bags sitting near the French blue-gray sideboard with the serpentine body and graphite top that sat under a vintage ornate Venetian mirror by the front entrance.

Her father shot him a tight smile, "Well that's very nice of you, Professor- however, Celine has rules- rules she knows not to break-"

"Please sir," Fairfox pleaded, "I'm very sorry for bothering her on her way home. She was kind enough to guide me to my destination- I'd hate for her to be grounded over something that was _entirely _my fault. I swear on the Angel, it won't happen again."

Celine bit her tongue to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. She knew no matter what her Professor said, it'd probably just make it worse for Celine- the fact that he was a _man_ was already enough. She turned her face to look down at the counter to hide her pathetic expression.

Her father looked between the Professor and her before questioning in a dangerously low voice, "Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Her head shot up looking to her father and then her Professor- who looked just as scandalized. "_No sir!_" He assured hastily, "Whatever would give you _that _idea?"

Her father turned to face her. The menacing look in his eyes said it all- _he thinks there's something going on between us_, she thought with a shiver, _there's nothing I can say or do that'll convince him otherwise._

"Papa, there is nothing going on between Professor Fairfox and I. He is my Professor- he just needed help finding that little bakery you always go to, '_Miss Cupcake'_. I took him there, and he offered to walk me home-"

"Oh, so you took him there and he offered to walk you home- and now you're preparing a coffee for him?" he accused in a not so disguised jealous tone.

Celine looked to the dark roast coffee jar on the counter next to the red coffee mug, "I offered him something to drink as a thank you. It meant nothing more, papa. _Je vous le promets._" He glared at her, "There _better_ be nothing- and I mean _nothing_ going on between the two of you. Or _you_," he pointed at her very uncomfortable looking Professor, "will be reported to the Inquisitor." She suppressed a scoff. _I'm sure the Inquisitor would be much more interested in what _you_ were up to, _she thought acidly. "And you, Celine- well, I don't think I have to explain." He seethed.

She shook her head, "Papa-"

"Mr. Montclaire, forgive me if me accompanying Celine home comes off as…inappropriate, however, there is absolutely nothing going on between your daughter and I. I'm well into my twenties and she's only fifteen." He shook his head, "I think I'll just leave now." He glanced at Celine quickly, mouthing an apology, before stalking off to the living room for his bags. "Oh, and here- the cupcakes." He took the pink box out of the bag and set it on the edge of the sideboard. "Good day, sir." He said before closing the door behind him.

Celine and her father stared at each other for a quick moment before she made a dash for the living room. She could hear his thunderous footsteps as he raced after her. She got foot on the staircase when she felt a hand yank at her hair, pulling her head down hard and fast, onto the dark wood floor.

She groaned as her head ached from where her father was pulling at it mercilessly. "You slept with him didn't you? You stupid bitch." He kicked into her side, once, twice- before spitting on her. She cried out with each blow. He dragged her to the center of the living room before pulling the belt from his pants loose. "_You belong to me._" She whimpered in response, cringing as she looked up at him with the belt. He drew his arm back and brought the belt down hard and fast as he began to whip her. "_Ahhhhhh!_" she screamed as she curled into herself and covered her head. He kicked at her side once more, "I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget, tonight. Get up and go shower- _NOW._" He shouted at her.

She got up as fast as her battered body would allow her and made a dash for the stairs, but not before her father could lay one last blow across her back. She gasped, feeling as if the air had been sucked out of her, as she collapsed forward once more. "I said shower- now Celine. Don't make me put you in there myself- believe me, you won't like it."

Ignoring the searing pain at her sides- and back- she got back up and scurried up the stairs to shower.

* * *

She lay in her bed shaking and sobbing quietly as she knew what awaited her. He'd only done it a few times over the course of all the years he'd been hurting her. She didn't even bother putting on any clothes, knowing he'd just rip them off as he was _very _upset.

He stormed through her door a moment later, with the supplies in his hands. "Time for some discipline." He eyed her bare body appreciatively before moving into the room.

She sobbed and begged, "Papa, _please. I swear on the Angel,_ nothing happened-" His cold glare stopped her mid-sentence. "I know what I saw, Celine. You can't lie to me." He stalked over to her on the bed and sharply backhanded her. She fell back against the pillows and lay still, only seeing darkness and stars, as she heard her father tying the ropes onto the metal bed frame behind her. She took in a few deep breaths as her vision slowly came back to her. He was by the end of her bed now, tying the other ropes to the frame there. She whimpered, knowing it was all in vain, but she didn't care anymore. She felt weak at the knowledge that this would be an all night punishment.

He grabbed her legs and began tying them to the restraints- she didn't bother kicking out at him, knowing it would be entirely useless. He came around the side of the bed once more and tied her hands to the remaining ropes that hung there. He began removing what little clothes he had on before getting onto the bed with her, positioning himself at her entrance. He leaned over to the bedside table grabbing something there before bringing it down into Celine's mouth. "This is your gag, did you miss it?" he mocked. He tied it around her head before whispering, "Just know, ma cherie, that I'm only doing this to teach you a lesson. It is written, 'He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.'" She shut her eyes and whimpered against the gag.

He entered her a moment later, her eyes flying wide open at the pain of the completely dry entrance. He began pumping into her in a slow motion- ignoring the pain he felt. It was to discipline her, and that was all that mattered to him. Celine cried against the gag as his erection began to pound into her faster and faster. After a few minutes she was sopping wet and moaning wantonly against her gag as she bucked her hips up to meet her father's animalistic pace. He threw his head back and groaned at the sound of him and his daughter colliding with one another. The melody of their most intimate parts beating together was practically enough to send him over the edge, but he pulled on his balls to make himself last longer.

Her hips were buckling up and down wildly, as if she were a wild bull and her father the commanding rider. He grabbed her hips to steady them against him as he impaled himself into her tight chasm until they both came hard, her juices bathing his throbbing member as he buried his seed deep inside her. She breathed hard against the gag as her father started up again.

Her muffled groans of pleasure encouraged him to speed up his pace once more. He rocked his hips back and forth, back and forth, till her legs were shaking once more and she cried out against her gag. He squeezed her breast for something to hold onto, as he began slamming into her at an earth-shattering speed. She closed her eyes and screamed against the gag as her vision became muddled with white spots.

"That's what I want to hear." He chuckled breathlessly, "But I'm not even _close _to done with you."

He cried out as they orgasmed once more and he pulled out of her. He removed the gag hastily before sticking his slick member into her hot dribbling mouth. She choked on it, he was very large. He was practically sitting on her face as he rocked his hips in and out of her mouth fast. She wrapped her lips around him and attempted to suck away as best she could at the speed she was working with. His balls hit her chin repetitively, though she ignored the sensation and focused at the task at hand- not to choke.

"_Yes- uhhhh. You make papa feel so good._ Suck me harder." He shoved deeper this time, making her eyes fly wide open as she choked on his member. He pulled out for a moment to let her catch her breath before shoving it back in and picking up his pace. He came a moment later, forcing her to swallow, before he pulled out and slapped her face with it. She closed her eyes as he did it a few more times and laughed at her mockingly.

He got off the bed and untied her hands before moving to undo the restraints at her feet. "Get up and come over here Celine."

She moved to get off the bed and flinched at the soreness between her legs. She hobbled over to where he wanted her, right before the end of the bed. "Lean over face first." He ordered emotionlessly. She did as she was told. He spread her legs apart wide, and proceeded to tie one leg to one leg of her bed, and her other leg to the other leg of the bed. He swatted her bum appreciatively before grabbing her arms and tying them behind her back- tightly. He sauntered back over to the bed to retrieve the gag before coming to shove it back into her mouth and tying it behind her head.

He went over to the bedside table and picked up what Celine had feared all along- her egg.

"Remember your little egg?" He waved the purple jelly egg in front of her. She shut her eyes and began to cry against the gag. "Oh hush, you know you love it."

He thrust in up her hole before waving the remote in front of her. "I'm leaving this on full speed, all night. That will teach you that only _I_ can bring you this pleasure. And you will _never_ have another man- or bring another man to this house. _Ever again._" He pressed a button and the little machine buried inside her began to vibrate mercilessly. She groaned as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she pressed her head down onto the bed, her gag suppressing her wanton mewls. He chuckled once more before he moved his hand over his hardened member and began to pump. She threw her head back as far as she could before her third orgasm of the night ripped through her, eliciting a muffled scream from the girl. Her father threw his head back in response, enjoying the image of his beautiful daughter writhing in pleasure. He pumped harder and faster as he continued to watch her as she moaned and groaned against her gag. Finally when he felt his release fast approach, he moved in front of her to shoot his hot white semen all over her face.

She closed her eyes as she waited for her father to finish- but not before another orgasm rocked through her. She idly heard her father leave the room a few minutes later before another was on the way.

After writhing against the bed for what felt like hours, her vision went black.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. **

**And yes, I accidentally posted up a chapter that I didn't really review thoroughly- it was really late at night when I finished it and I just thought "What the heck, let me just post- gotta give the people what they want!" But then when I went to bed I realized that it wasn't really the direction I wanted to story to go- at least not for a while. I feel as if you still need to learn more about Celine and her back story. If I would've left that chapter up then it'd basically just fast forward to Valentine and the Circle- which I may get to, I may not- it all depends how I feel the story unfolds itself to me. **

**Again- sorry for that folks! Something that's a bit disappointing for me was the way I wrote chapter one. Like I said in my last author's note (I think), this was initially a one-shot, so I just kind of wrote it really fast and posted it without much thought. But then I got some inspiration to continue and so I have been doing that. However, the quality of writing compared to chapter one to the rest of the chapters I've written so far pales in comparison- or at least I feel it does- and I don't think I'd re-write it because you've all read it and the first chapter_ is_ the foundation for the story in your head, and I don't wish to disrupt that. However, I _do_ wish to apologize for the carelessness on my part for posting something that I didn't think was 300% perfect. **

**Again, thanks for reading (This was a really long chapter! About 6,000 words). Leave a review or comment or just say hi! It'd be much appreciated.**


	4. Pain Au Chocolat

Her father had come to remove her egg about a half hour ago. Currently, she was standing in the shower allowing the hot water to cascade down her aching back. Leaning over the bed all night had given her immense back pain- nothing she hadn't experienced before. She knew the pain would fade in a few days, but for now she'd have to deal with the horrible stiffness. She'd also have to skip quite a few lessons at the Institute, not that she entirely minded. After yesterday's fiasco she was much too embarrassed to see her Professor again.

The bruises from where her father had kicked her stood out against her fair skin. The whip marks were red and stung under the pounding of water in the shower. She'd have to put an izrate on those. She refused to cry as she shampooed her hair, feeling the bump on her head as she rubbed the cleanser into her scalp. She had sweat a lot last night as her lithe body was relentlessly racked with orgasm after orgasm.

The first thing she noticed when she had gotten up from the bed was that she was severely numb between her legs. Her thighs also tingled uncomfortably whenever she moved. She whimpered in pain as she washed her private, the painful pricks of the remaining numbness tingled whenever she touched herself down there. She bit her tongue as she continued to clean the lower part of her body.

She stood under the hot water for a bit more, allowing it to continue to loosen her tight muscles, before she stepped out. Wrapping a plush pink towel around her, she trekked over to sit before her shabby French vanity. A shot of pain burst through her lower body as she lowered herself onto the bench. She prayed a silent prayer wishing the pain away before combing her hair.

Staring at her reflection she observed her puffed up cheek from where her father had backhanded her last night. She'd have to put some ice on it before it got any worse since face _izrates_ weren't very kind to her sensitive skin.

She ran her hand over the beautiful vanity before her. Her father had once told her it was in the style of Louis XV. Céline didn't care much, she just though it was lovely and was ecstatic when her father had bought it for her all those years ago.

Though her family wasn't notable for anything, her father- like few Shadowhunter families- was rich off Downworlder spoils. He didn't keep any spoils in the house as he didn't want anything of demonic association in his home- much to her relief. A shiver ran down her spine whenever she caught sight of the spoils the Pontmercy's kept on display in their office.

Setting the comb down, she got up to walk over to her bed to retrieve a pair of panties and black tights. Slipping them on, she flinched as she elastic band hugged the bruises on her waist- rather tightly. Attempting to ignore the pain, she reached for her strapless bra and black dress and threw those on as well before checking her reflection in the floor length mirror at the corner of the room.

The all black outfit made her skin look lighter than usual. She smiled to herself while eyeing the off shoulder black dress. It ended right around her thighs- which made her feel pretty. Not that she thought she was ugly- she knew she was attractive to some degree. Why would her father want to sleep with an ugly girl? She also wasn't usually this bold- wearing clothes that revealed a lot of skin. She couldn't really participate in those sorts of fashion trends due to the bruises that adorned her torso. Thankfully, she didn't have any bruises on her shoulders.

She slipped on a pair of low black heels before heading downstairs for breakfast.

The familiar smell of bacon waft through the air of the house. Her father stood behind the stove cleaning the stone French country hood above it. He usually wasn't the type to take up Céline's chores, but whenever he punished her with her egg he'd ease up on her under the knowledge that if she didn't recuperate quickly the Pontmercy's would call the Silent Brothers to check up on her 'condition'. Her father wasn't having any of _that_.

His eyes twinkled when he saw her dress, "Eat your breakfast, mon ange."

Two plates set on the island held three French galettes and two pieces of pain au chocolat. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it.

Her father only got her pain au chocolat when he was trying to say sorry. She was never allowed to have pastries for breakfast as her father didn't want her putting on any weight, her preferred her thin. Only during the mundane holiday seasons would their kitchen be bursting with cakes and all sorts of other delectable treats. But knowing how much of a sweet tooth Céline had, her father would apologize with treats from the local bakery and usually some rather expensive jewelry. She smiled inwardly at the gesture, but suppressed a melancholy sigh as she knew last night would probably not be the last time she would receive such a discipline.

Pulling a plate out from the cupboard she stepped over to the island for a seat before placing a galette and a pain au chocolat on her plate. She flinched at the pain that shot through her as she sat down.

Her mother wandered into the kitchen a moment later. Her tired red rimmed eyes scanned her daughters outfit before muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like _petite pute._ Céline ignored her mother as she chewed her food, suppressing a flinch as she swallowed. Her father vaguely acknowledged her mother's entrance; he simply nodded and gestured to the gallettes he prepared.

Her mother turned to her, a malicious glint in her eye, "Had fun last night, Céline?"

She looked at her mother with pure disgust. "Laisse-moi tranquille!" she spat at her.

Her mother smiled, continuing as if she hadn't heard her speak, "I'm positive the whole neighborhood heard you- must have been quite the experience, huh? And who could forget the sound of you gagging on your fathers cock? Music to my ears!"

"_OK, ça suffit."_ Her father roared, making both Céline and her mother flinch. He stalked over to her mother and twisted her arm, "Listen to me very carefully," he hissed menacingly, "Do not _ever _speak to her in that tone again, _you understand me?_ She has more prestige in this home than you do, _salaud._"

Her mother laughed bitterly, "You mean _her cunt_ has more prestige in this home than mine does."

Céline flinched at the sound of her father's hand connecting with her mother face. The woman reeled back, nearly falling over at the force of the blow. Céline wanted to smile, but she knew now her mother had put her father in a bad mood, and that was nothing to smile about. Not wanting to be sent up to her room, she cast her eyes down to her plate as she continued eating.

"You would be nothing without me," her father sneered at his disheveled wife, "_I'm_ the reason you're still in the Clave. Every breath you take is only because_ I_ allow it. I could easily get rid of you- _don't you_ _ever forget that_."

Céline felt her heart speed up at her father's words. Her father was a muscular man, and if she were generally speaking he was handsome as well. He could abandon her mother and easily remarry- though she knew her father enjoyed the '_arrangement' _he had going on far too much to even bother getting a divorce. If any other woman discovered what her father was doing to her, she'd most defiantly report him to the Clave. He didn't want any of that. So he stood with his drunkard of a wife and his play-thing for a daughter to avoid any unwanted interruptions.

Her mother groaned in pain as she ambled out of the kitchen. Céline moved from her unfinished gallate to her pain au chocolat. She munched quietly thinking of all the things she could do today since she was staying home. She could wait by her window for the neighbors to play some music. She could perhaps try out a new recipe from the cookbook her father had bought her. She would most likely have to visit the market to pick up the ingredients as their fridge didn't have much in it. She vaguely noted that her father _had_ gone grocery shopping early in the morning, as the bags from the market were all bunched together on the floor near the counter.

She gasped lightly as she felt two large arms snake around her waist. She felt her father's breath stir her hair as he leaned his head close to hers. She suppressed a shiver when he playfully nipped at her ear. "Are you sore?" he whispered.

She nodded as she chewed her food. He moved a hand to run along her inner thigh before he cupped her. She whimpered in pain. "Mon bébé, forgive me. I just needed you to know that you belong to me and only me. You cannot ever let another man have you, or I will get very upset. Do you see know? You understand ma belle, right?" he asked sweetly.

_Vous vissez,_ she wanted to say, but she didn't. She placed a hand over his hand at her waist and gave it a light squeeze, "Yes papa."

* * *

Professor Fairfox strode through the halls of the Institute to the main office where he was sure he'd find Mr. Pontmercy. The sound of his dress shoes hitting the marble floor resembled that of gun-shots in a cathedral. Upon reaching his destination, he knocked at the door before entering.

Mr. Pontmercy's eyebrows flew up from a paper in his hand, "Andrew- is something wrong?"

He nodded, "Céline Montclaire didn't show up for class today, sir."

The man behind the desk nodded, "Yes, her father came by very early to tell us she was feeling under the weather so she would be staying home for the next few days."

He could hardly suppress a scoff. _Under the weather, my ass,_ he though bitterly.

He knew what he saw yesterday at her home. How her father had seemed so angry at the fact that Céline had arrived home just a little bit late. The way she tensed at the sound of her father's voice- the fearful look in her eyes as if she _knew_ what was coming. The way her father seemed almost _jealous_ at the idea of Céline fixing him up a cup of coffee- he thought perhaps he had been imagining it.

But upon arriving home he skimmed through his old psychology textbook and read up the many signs of child abuse. To his disbelief, Céline matched up to many signs of emotional _and _sexual abuse. Up until yesterday he honestly couldn't imagine her father hurting Céline in any way, shape, or form. But since then, the shoe seems to fit.

Andrew moved to take a seat, "Elliot, there's something that's…come to my attention so to speak."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, "And that would be…?"

He cleared his throat, "Yesterday, I escorted Céline home and her father was vivid when we arrived. He was very upset because she was a little late. But when he was there Céline seemed very...frightened and tense. She looked really uneasy, and well," he paused, "her father- somehow- came to the conclusion that she and I were _intimate_."

Stunned, Elliot leaned back into his chair considerably, "_Intimate?!"_

He nodded gravely, "Yes sir. He saw that Céline was making coffee for me and- I honestly don't know _how _he came to that conclusion- I guess he assumed that she and I were together- romantically. Céline reassured him the nothing was going on, and I guess he believed her…he went on to say that if we _were _ together he'd report me to the Clave, and then he threatened Céline with, '_well, I don't think I have to explain.'_"

Elliot nodded, "Okay. Well he thought you and his daughter had an inappropriate relationship- what father wouldn't be angry?"

He made an impatient noise, "No Elliot, you don't understand. I have a strong suspicion that perhaps Céline is being abused." The man made a noise of surprise, "Don't be _ridiculous_ Andrew! That man _adores_ Celine. All he ever does is talk about her."

_That sick fuck,_ Fairfox thought acidly, "I bet he really _loves _her…" he muttered.

"Stop that. There's no way he'd-"

Suddenly the door flew open and Sophia and Jessamine tumbled to the ground. They looked up sheepishly at Mr. Pontmercy and their Professor. "What are you girls doing?" Elliot reprimanded.

"I thought you two went home." Fairfox said.

Sophia and Jessamine looked at each other before scrambling to their feet. Sophia was first to speak, "We-we heard what you were saying about Céline." She stammered not looking up to meet their hard gazes. "_You heard?!"_ Fairfox boomed as he rose from his chair.

Jessamine nodded, looking directly at him, "Céline's father hurts her- ask Jeremy, he knows about it too."

Fairfox blanched, _"You knew?!"_ he exclaimed the same time Elliot bellowed, _"What?!"_

"Jeremy told us once that he was spying on her while she was getting dressed after her shower and he saw all the bruises she had. We didn't tell because we thought he was just lying."

Elliot was red in the face and fuming, "He did _what_?"

Farifox put his face in his hands, _"By the Angel…"_

Jessamine shrugged, "He _could've _been lying- you could always put him under the Mortal Sword to check."

Fairfox and Mr. Pontmercy eyes meet each other for a split second before returning to the girls, "He's just a boy…" his father said. Fairfox shook his head, "Sir, if what he told the girls is true, we could save Céline's life. _Please._" He begged.

Sophia piped up, "She could live at the Institute with us!" Jessamine rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips.

Mr. Pontmercy glared at them, "This is _serious!_" He cast his gaze to the phone on his desk. He never could've imagined someone he worked _so closely _with could be filled with such evil. He shuddered at the thought of sharing the same angelic blood with the man. "We can't call the Clave and tell them our suspicions are based purely on a story some child told- we need to be sure of it ourselves. I think perhaps, we should pay a visit to the Montclaire's tonight- before we involve the Inquisitor that is."

* * *

"_Uhhh…yes. Me sucer la bite, mon chaton."_ Her father whispered lewdly at her.

He couldn't have sex with her due to the aching pain she felt- he needed her to recover soon for him. The very thought of her arching her back for him- grinding her sex into him was nearly enough to send him over the edge. Once he gave her the earrings he had purchased for her at Tiffany's, he told her to suck him dry.

She bobbed her head back and forth over his rigid cock. Ignoring the pain she felt in her throat, she took him in deep, dribble seeping out the sides of her mouth. His hand flew to the back of her head, holding her in place, "_Fuck! Yes, that's it. I can't wait till I can fuck your tight little pussy again."_ She fought her gag reflex as he settled himself deeper into her mouth. Tears flowed from her eyes at the lack of oxygen.

He pulled her head back away from his throbbing length as he said; "No crying. Suck harder." He then thrust himself back into her hot mouth. She whimpered against the thick flesh but continued to suck.

She teased under his head with her tongue as she expertly sucked his shaft. He moaned in response, clenching her hair in a death like grip as he held her against him. The pain in her throat was beginning to become unbearable so she began teasing his balls, coaxing him to spill his white hot seed onto her tongue.

Not a moment later, he screamed out a string of explicate words as he released his semen down her throat. She swallowed every drop and licked him clean before popping him out of her mouth.

He looked down at her with a lazy smile, "Mon chéri, you're amazing." She shot him a shy smile before getting off her knees. "I got ingredients from the market today. I'm going to make a coq a vin."

Her father grinned as he slid his boxers back on, "That was one of my childhood favorites. I hope you don't disappoint."

At his words she suddenly felt uneasy, "Well it's my first time- we can't expect miracles."

He nodded before kissing the top of her head affectionately, "My Céline can do _anything_. I should expect _nothing but _miracles."

She giggled nervously before excusing herself and shuffling downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother was still in the living room, except now she had a drink in her hand. She didn't acknowledge as Céline strode by and into the kitchen to begin dinner.

* * *

"This is the Montclaire residence." Fairfox said as they approached the three story brick home. Mrs. Pontmercy nodded, "Yes, we've been here before. It's been a while…"

Her husband rubbed her arm affectionately, "Remember, we can't give away the reason we came by- we just say that we wanted to visit Céline and congratulate her on her acceptance to the Academy, okay?"

Fairfox shook his head, "But we aren't even sure she received the letter yet. I'm sure she would've told me if she got it."

He shrugged, "Well, if she hasn't gotten it yet she'll consider it as a surprise."

They stood before the door of the Montclaire residence now. They looked at each other anxiously before Fairfox reached forward for the elaborate door knocker, which he hit against the door.

A moment later, Mr. Montclaire appeared at the door- quite stunned to say the least. He looked from Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy till his gazed landed on Professor Fairfox. He could hardly suppress a glare, "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Mrs. Pontmercy beamed at him, "Everything is _excellent!_ We just wanted to come by see how Céline is doing, and we'd also like to congratulate her on her acceptance to the Academy."

His eyebrows flew up, "_She applied?!"_

Fairfox shook his head, "No, I recommended her."

Mr. Pontmercy continued, "It's a joyful occasion indeed- could we speak to Céline?"

He coughed awkwardly, "She's- uh, setting the table…" he trailed off, not knowing how to possibly shoo them away.

"Oh, why don't we just come in?" Mrs. Pontmercy said as she shuffled past a surprised looking Mr. Montclaire. Her husband and Fairfox followed in after her. Mr. Montclaire glared at the redheaded man as he shut the door behind him. "_Céline!_ Dearie, its Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy and Professor Fairfox! Come out, come- oh, there you are!" Mrs. Pontmercy said.

Céline stood in the doorway of the kitchen staring wide eyed at the people gathered in the living room. She blinked a few times wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her- or if her parents insanity was beginning to rub off on her. "Oh- I- well, hello." She said meekly.

Mrs. Pontmercy went over to hug Céline - tightly. She held her close, pressing on all of the bruises that were still healing from the_ izrate _she applied earlier. She flinched slightly before holding her breath as she waited for the woman to release her. Professor Fairfox noticed.

"You don't look very sick to me…" Mrs. Pontmercy mused.

Céline blinked, not understanding what she meant, before realization dawned on her. "Oh no, I am. I have a very sore throat. It hurts to talk." She croaked out.

Mrs. Pontmercy observed her for a moment before shaking her head, "Poor thing. Well it _does _smell lovely in here doesn't it dear?" she asked her husband. He nodded, "Smells a lot like coq a vin if I'm not mistaken."

Céline nodded, "Yes- I made it for dinner."

Professor Fairfox grinned, "_Fabulous! _We'll join you!"

Céline's eyes widened as she looked to her father for direction. He wasn't much help as he was sputtering expletives under his breath. "Uhhh…" she said, "…sure?"

* * *

"My, my, my! Who knew you were such a wonderful cook, Céline?" Mr. Pontmercy chuckled as he sat back in his seat rubbing his belly.

She ducked her head and blushed, "Merci monsieur."

Fairfox clasped his hands together, "Well! What we came here to do is to congratulate you on your acceptance to the Academy, Céline. I assume you've already received a letter in the mail?"

She gulped down the rest of her wine not meeting the questioning eyes that stared at her, "Oh- I got into the Academy…? But I didn't apply." She said nonchalantly.

Mrs. Pontmercy spoke up, "Professor Fairfox recommended you."

Céline smiled, "Oh – wow, thank you…" He waved his hand, "You deserve it."

Her father spoke up, "Yes- well unfortunately Céline has priorities here at home that must be attended to. She can't go prancing off to Alicante to-"

"Excuse me Joël," Mr. Pontmercy said tersely, "with all due respect, Céline won't be _prancing off_ to Alicante. She will be under the supervision and guidance of the best instructors the Clave can offer. It's an opportunity she should consider-"

Her father interjected- rather rudely, "With all due respect, _Elliot_- she's still a minor. She cannot consider anything unless _I _allow it. I _forbid _her from going."

The adults around the table eyed Céline as if waiting for her to speak, but she kept her eyes cast down onto her plate. Fairfox rubbed the back of his head, "Mr. Montclaire, it's quite the honor to be selected to attend the Academy- as I'm sure you know. Céline should take full advantage of this opportunity as it will most defiantly assist her growth as a Shadowhunter."

Céline shot a sideways glance at her father who simply rolled his eyes, "Listen to me- I understand the enormity of this opportunity, I only want the best for my daughter," he reached to grasp Céline's- shaking- hand, "I love Céline with all my heart, but it isn't easy living with a drunkard for a wife. If Celine were to leave for school I don't know how I'd continue to maintain my home. I simply can't do everything by myself. Céline and I are a team. I need her here- I hope you can understand that." He finished solemnly.

She fought against the lump that was building in her throat. She had known her father wasn't going to let her out of his sight, but to actually hear him say it out loud solidified how caged she was, and how much control her father had over her. It wasn't like she could speak up and tell them how much she dreamed of going to the Academy and that she was honored to be accepted- but like her father said, _she was still a minor_. A spark of anguish flashed in her heart as she felt the dream she had dreamed for so long ripped away from her, much like the innocence her father had ripped from her all those years ago.

After a long silence Mrs. Pontmercy spoke, "I understand your situation Joël -"

He scoffed, "I highly doubt it."

She pursed her lips, "In any case, you could all relocate to Alicante. I'm sure you have the necessary funds to do so."

Her father shook his head stubbornly, "We aren't moving to Alicante. I get enough _crap_ here for staying with my wife despite her current condition- I'm sure the more traditional Shadowhunters over there would be much less forgiving."

Mr. Pontmercy nodded, "You're right. But as Élise pointed out- taking into consideration the luxuriousness of your home- if you _were _to move to Alicante we're quite sure you'd have enough funds to do so- that being said, perhaps you could hire a servant or two to assist you in maintaining your home while Céline -"

Her father banged his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump in surprise. Céline suppressed a whimper. Her father would take out his anger on her once their guests left. She could only hope that perhaps he would go easy on her, taking into account her current injuries. She peeked up to gauge her father's expression. He was red in the face to say the least- clenching and unclenching his fists as he attempted to control his anger. _"Absolutely not- _how many times must I say it?!" He paused, blowing out a slow breath, "I think it's time for you to leave." He finished in a controlled voice.

Professor Fairfox, whose face was also pinched red, shot up from his seat, "Let's go." He hissed.

Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy rose from their seats, "Well thank you for dinner Céline, you are quite the chef! And thank you for having us Joël. Enjoy the rest of your night." Mrs. Pontmercy chirped.

She and her father sat in silence as they waited to hear the front door slam. Her father turned to her, "Clean this up, Céline." He whispered calmly.

She blinked at him. _That's it?_

She gave him a soft smile before she rose from her chair to collect the dishes, "Yes papa."

* * *

"Did you notice anything off?" Elliot questioned.

They were hurrying down Boulevard de Rochechouart to catch the next train. Élise's heels clicked against the sidewalk, attracting the attention of a couple of men who were leaning against a vehicle. They smirked at each other before she walked by, Elliot slinked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He snickered, "Besides the obvious?"

Fairfox grimaced, "She flinched when you hugged her, Élise."

Her eyebrows flew up as she turned to look at him, "What- really? I didn't see."

He nodded, "She looked like she was holding her breath too. Maybe her father didn't allow her to heal herself with an _izrate_?" Fairfox said.

Elliot sighed, "Well, you can tell the Inquisitor what you saw- we'll all testify to Joël's absurd reaction. We'll call the Inquisitor in the morning."

Fairfox raised an eyebrow, "I think we could send out a fire message tonight, can't we?" If Céline _was _being abused they needed to act fast. They simply _couldn't _wait till tomorrow.

Elliot huffed, "I don't consort with warlocks Andrew- you know that. And I don't know how to send one myself."

He shook his head, "We need to do this _now._ Call the Clave- someone at the Guard should pick up."

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**If there are any mistakes in the story then I'm sorry- I did my best with spell check and I read it over several times. I find that sometimes when I post a story to fanfiction some stuff gets messed up…I don't know why. Again, I apologize! **

**I decided to make ****Céline**** a bit girly- hence the heels. I figured back in like 1987 (the year the story takes place) the girls were much more girly than nowadays. **

**When ****Céline**** 'suppressed a flinch as she swallowed' while eating her breakfast it was because what her father did last night. Her throat is sore from gagging on his penis and from screaming against the gag. Sorry if that confused you!**

**As for the visit to Céline's house, they (Mr.& Mrs. Pontmercy & Professor Fairfox) weren't going there to demand Céline to show them bruises or anything like that. They knew that if they tipped her father off that they knew something about his abuse he could try to kill her. That's why Fairfox said to Mr. Pontmercy **_**"Sir, if what he told the girls is true, we could save Céline's life. Please."**_ **Fairfox knew the sort of danger she was in. He wasn't going to risk her life- they were just going to see if anything was **_**off**_**. **

**And in case you're confused:**

**Mr. Montclaire's (Céline's father) first name is Joël.**

**Professor Fairfox's (Céline's instructor) first name is Andrew.**

**Mrs. Pontmercy's (Jeremy & Edgar's mother) first name is ****Élise.**

**And Mr. Pontmercy's ****(Jeremy & Edgar's father) first name is Elliot.**

**Question:**** Would you prefer me to call them by their first names or by Fairfox, and Mr and Mrs Pontmercy? **

**Thank you for reading & reviewing!**


	5. Of Princesses In Towers

_An array of vivid colors swirled past her as she fell through the portal, the sphere of light shutting behind her with a loud swish. The trip had been quite jarring but the anticipation of what was awaiting her on other side of the blurred portal subdued her panic. Blinking the white spots out of her vision, her eyes swept around the room taking in her surroundings. Stone walls surrounded her in the small circular room which resembled that of a castle. From her spot on the ground, she squinted up at an arched window that intromitted rich- almost enchanted- light into the small tower room. _

_She recalled a story her father had read to her once when she was a child about two princes, Edward and Richard. They were lodging in the Tower of London by order of their uncle Richard, Duke of Gloucester who ordered the command under the pretense of preparing for Edward's coronation. Nothing was thought of it since many awaiting kings lodged in that very tower before beginning their reigns. However their uncle had different plans. He seized the throne for himself by convincing Parliament that the princes were illegitimate and after that it was believed that their uncle had them murdered since no one ever saw the princes again. _

_The small tower room that surrounded her resembled that of what she imagined when her father had read her the story. She could see the two young boys in her minds eyes, irritated and restless as they awaited a coronation that would never come. Whenever she thought of the story she couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for the boys. She knew what it was like to be trapped and helpless while waiting for some sort of savior, only to realize it was all a horrible trick. She had stopped dreaming of that potential savior long ago. _

"_Welcome to Alicante, ancient city of the Nephilim." a euphonious voice announced from behind her. Brushing the dirt off her clothes she rose to her feet and turned to the voice, her eyes landing on a handsome Shadowhunter. Wait-isn't he_…._Her breath caught- it was the same Shadowhunter who had helped her wounded father the other day- what was he doing here?_

_He flashed a captivating smile- one she was sure he used often, "Céline__."__ He breathed while his glittering sapphire and gold eyes appraised her. Blood pooled in her cheeks under his tender gaze. It was the exact way her father used to look at her. _

"_Yes?" _

_He took a step towards her, causing her heart to flip erratically in her chest. She held her breath listening to the thunderous sound of her blood swooshing through her ears. Almost as if he could hear her internal reaction, his lips twitched up at the edge and he shook his head sending a bronze lock of hair into his eye. "I'm making you nervous aren't I?" he asked, though it didn't sound like a question at all. Just stating facts._

_She opened her mouth to respond but closed it just as fast. She was nervous, but not for the reason he thought she was. Finally finding her voice she replied, "Where's my father?"_

_Forking his fingers through his hair, he expelled a breath. It seemed as if he had hoped she wouldn't have asked._

_He shot her a tight-lipped smile, "How about I take you to that bakery you like so much? The one with the Napoleons." _

_She shook her head. An inescapable cloud of darkness appeared over the room, turning her boiling blood to ice. The fluttering of her heart stopped and slowed to a faint- almost deadly- march. "No. Where is my father? Does he know I'm here? I'll get in a lot of trouble if-"_

"_You're father is dead and gone- your mother too. I've been chosen to bring you from the Guard to the Academy, where you will be attending school from now on." From where he stood, he extended a brawny hand towards her, "Are you ready to go?" _

_Céline blinked at him as her mind whirled round and round. 'Your father is dead and gone- your mother too.' He had said. Dead and gone-_ _but papa can't die- he's strong, indestructible, enduring…he can't just die… She shook her head, "That can't be true…" her eyes narrowed, "Where is he? What have you done to him?!" _

_The man's turquoise eyes scrutinized her for a moment, concern lacing his features. An uncomfortable pressure building in her chest left her gasping for air. The thunderous pulse that flooded her veins, the soft whisper of a chilling terror that leaped up her spine and seeped itself deep into her flesh making her skin clammy, were all responsible for the frightening whirl of her head that sent stars skittering into her vision. _What's happening to me,_ she thought with a rush of terror, _I need to get out of here._ A soft whimper fell from her lips as she realized she was paralyzed in place. Her stomach clenched as vicious wave of nausea churned right through her._

_The man edged closer. His brows knitted together in a frown, "Are you alright?" _

_She shook her head. Opening her mouth, she attempted to respond but no sound came out. Her throat had gone dry and the stars in her eyes began to pull her down. _I'm dying,_ tears prickled in her eyes as her head swirled. A loud booming echoed in the room and she flinched, her hands coming up to cover her ears. She reeled back as the loud booming grew closer to her and yelped when two strong hands gripped her shoulders. Blinking through the fuzzy haze of her vision, she made out the young Shadowhunters colorful eyes. Her head lolled back as she succumbed to the tug of darkness, allowing herself to drift away. _

Gasping, Céline shot up from her bed in a cold sweat. Gripping the lilac colored sheets with trembling hands, her eyes scoured the room. She relaxed slighting to find that she was alone. Taking in a few steady breaths and reassuring herself that it was only a dream, she yanked the sheets back and hopped out the bed. With a yawn she stretched her arms out wide, unwinding herself from her troubled sleep before strolling into the connecting bathroom for a quick shower.

Recalling the previous night's events, her brows knitted together into a frown. She hadn't entirely understood the reason for Professor Fairfox and Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy's visit. They mentioned that they wanted to congratulate her on her acceptance to The Academy but she didn't see why they couldn't have just waited till she returned to class. Her father _had_ told them that she would be absent for bit due to her 'feeling under the weather'- couldn't they have been patient? She scowled, _now he knows that I got in. _Pressing her lips together in a thin line, her mind ran through all the possible punishments her father could've doled out to her upon their departure. She shivered at the thought of him bounding to her bed just as he had done the other night.

Rubbing her eyes she flicked on the bathroom light and sucked in a breath, wincing as the florescent light stung her retinas. Slapping her hand over her eyes she staggered out the room as a wave of vertigo crashed over her, enveloping her senses. _By the Angel…_

Groaning softly, she slouched against the pink wall and slid down onto the floor. _What's happening to me? _Perhaps the wine she had drunk at dinner last night was stronger than she had originally thought. A hot prickly sensation shot through her hands, which ironically, sent an icy chill shooting into her blood. Her heart slowed to a stutter, making her mouth go dry- was it possible for a fifteen year old girl to have a heart attack?

Not know what else to do she reluctantly called for the only person she knew would come.

"_Papa."_

* * *

"Right this way Mr. Whitelaw."

Sophia led- or at least attempted to lead- the Inquisitor up the winding staircase to the second floor where Mr. Pontmercy's office was located. She cast the man a sideways glance, eyeing the gray robe he wore that swished about his legs with every step he took. He was tall in stature and had a ruddy complexion that emphasized itself more on his round cheeks. His deep-set eyes had stared down his large hooked nose to look at her when she'd greeted him at the Institute doors. He hadn't even said 'hi' or 'hello'. A simple nod of his head and he was walking right past her, not turning to see if she'd follow or not.

Wringing her hands she smoothed out her clothes as she practically sprinted to keep up with his long legged strides. Did he even know where the main office was? Pressing her lips into a thin line she continued walking with the burly man until they reached the office door.

She thwacked at the door a couple of times before hearing Mr. Pontmercy's voice on the other side urge them in. Swinging the door open Sophia stepped in, followed by the Inquisitor.

Mr. and Mrs. Pontmercy and Professor Faifox all sat in the office. Professor Fairfox shot her a tight smile while Mr. Pontmercy gave her a quick nod that said _thank you, that'll be all._ Acknowledging his want for privacy she nodded before quickly turning to exit the room.

She dashed back down the hall to the staircase that lead up to the third floor. Her boots blared out booming thuds which each step she took. Jessamine was waiting for her in the room directly above the Mr. Pontmercy's office in hopes of eaves-dropping on the adult's conversation. Though the adults hadn't said much since yesterday, they knew that the Inquisitor's visit had something to do with the Montclaire's- particularly Céline.

Jessamine had told Sophia that Jeremy's parents and Professor Fairfox had gone over to the Céline's for a quick visit last night, and that when they had returned to the Institute they had seemed disturbed.

Rounding the sharp corner of the corridor she counted a few doors before rasping three quick times on the one concealing Jessamine. She heard the girl on the other side step towards the door before cracking it open. "Good, it's just you." She said relieved.

Sophia pushed past her, walking to the center of the medium sized guest room. There wasn't much in here, just a bed covered in white linens, a dresser embodied with French looking accents, a gold-rimmed mirror, and a small chandelier in which teardrop shaped crystals hung from- an exact replica of the one that hung in her room. Mrs. Pontmercy had raved to her the day she moved in that it was vintage- not that she had cared at the time; her heart was still grieving over her mother's death.

"So you know how to do the thingy?" Jessamine asked.

She nodded, "Yeah let's just sit here. I'll draw it on the ground." Kneeling, she pulled out her stele and pressed it to the wooden floor. Black swirls and lines connected and glowed momentarily before a clear- almost crystal- bubble formed on the ground before her. Jessamine gasped and leaned it to Sophia, "Can they hear us?" she whispered.

She shook her head, "Nope."

Jessamine clapped her hands, "Perfect."

They gazed down into the sphere seeing only the tops of their heads.

"…_yes well he was acting completely unreasonable-"_

"_With all due respect sir," Inquisitor Whitelaw drawled, "if I suspected one of my daughter's instructors of having engaged her in an inappropriate relationship I would most certainly have reacted the same way." _

_Professor Fairfox sat back, "But I am not engaging her in an inappropriate relationship, I would never-"_

_Whitelaw waved a hand, "I understand. I was simply stating that his reaction was not out of the ordinary."_

_Mr. Pontmercy nodded, "Yes well last night the three of us paid a visit to the Montclaire residence under the pretense of wishing to see how Céline was doing in terms of her illness and wanting to congratulate her_ _on her acceptance to The Academy of Alicante. When we told Joël he seemed surprised at first, but after we finished eating and brought it up to Céline, he interrupted and told us that he forbad her from going- which is rather odd as most parents would be thrilled to see their child attend The Academy- or in the least allow their child to consider whether or not they wish to go off for school. Joël's reasoning for her not going was that he and Céline were a team and that he couldn't possibly manage caring for his wife and the house all at once. Élise pointed out that since their family was well off he could hire a few maids to assist in the maintenance of the home while Céline was away, but it only further infuriated him and he asked us to leave." _

_Inquisitor Whitelaw nodded and leaned forward, "What was the girl's reaction to all of this?"_

_Mrs. Pontmercy huffed, "She was quiet the whole time- not a peep. The poor girl was staring down at her plate looking as if she were going to cry. She must be so heartbroken- I couldn't even imagine." _

_Whitelaw shrugged, "Well if her father says no then its no. But if he's only saying no to keep his victim nearby then I'll obviously have to remove her from her him until she's sixteen and old enough to attend The Academy." _

"_She turns sixteen soon." Professor Fairfox said._

"_How soon?"_

"_Soon enough that she should start packing for the Academy."_

_The Inquisitor shook his head, "Mrs. Pontmercy, she cannot begin packing for The Academy until I finish investigating. If nothing is wrong then she won't be leaving for Alicante. If something _is_ wrong then she will be removed from her home until-"_

_Professor Fairfox blew out a sharp breath, "Yes, yes. We get it- 'until she's old enough to attend The Academy.'" _

_The Inquisitor turned to him, "Careful Mr. Fairfox, or I should have to hold you in contempt."_

_The Professor went rigid then, jutting out his chin in defiance as he looked away. Mr. Pontmercy went on, "My son Jeremy says that he saw bruises all along Céline's torso."_

_The Inquisitor's head snapped to him, "He saw bruises? Are you sure?"_

"_Yes. I asked him myself yesterday."_

"_By the Angel…" Whitelaw buried his head in his hands. _

_The phone on Mr. Pontmercy's desk rang. He reached over and picked up the receiver, placing it to his ear, "Yes? Joël- slow down." He looked to the Inquisitor, "I'll call the Silent Brothers right now- I'll be right there." He pressed a button on the receiver's base and dialed another number. "Something's wrong with Céline. She collapsed just now." He said to everyone in the room._

Jessamine and Sophia shot each other a worried glance before returning their attention to the adults below.

_Mrs. Pontmercy placed a hand to her chest, "You don't think that perhaps he's hurt her because of us, do you?_

_Professor Fairfox shook his head, "Well if he has it'll be enough evidence against her father to have her removed from that home."_

_The Inquisitor stood up, his thick gray robe swinging beside him, "Call the Brother's, we'll all go together."_

Jessamine pulled her dagger from the scabbard at her side and sliced at the rune on the ground making the crystal sphere before them fade away, revealing the wooden floorboards again. Sophia bit her lip, "Do you think her father hurt her?"

Jessamine snorted, "If he accidently killed her I'm sure he'd much rather bury her body and claim she ran away than call the Institute."

Her eyes widened, _"She's not dead, _and Mr. Pontmercy said that she only collapsed."

Jessamine pinched the bridge of her nose, "Sophia, _think._ They all went to her house last night, they pissed off her crazy dad, and now she _'collapsed'._" she made air quotations as if to drive her point home, "He must have done something to harm her. Except this time he must have gone too far and now even he's scared."

_Oh god, anjo por favor vigiar Céline. _She hadn't been close to Céline- nobody was. Céline always had always kept her distance in terms conversation, only ever talking about their classes. She and Jessamine had always extended an invitation for Céline to come hang out with them but she never did. She'd always mutter some excuse about her father wanting her home early for some family thing- it seemed she _always _had some 'family thing'.

Her heart clenched with the knowledge that Céline had skipped out on outings because she was scared of her father- and not because she thought she was too good to hang out with them as Jessamine once put it. Pushing herself up off the ground she smoothed her hands over her clothes- a nervous habit- before announcing, "Well at least the Inquisitor didn't ask to have Jeremy put under the Mortal Sword."

Jessamine pursed her lips, _"Well that sucks."_

* * *

"_Céline ,Céline please wake up."_

Feeling her body being shaken violently she groaned, keeping her eyes shut. A swoosh of air blew across her face making her scowl, it smelled of coffee. Fluttering her eyes open she saw her father's concerned face gazing down at her, "Mon amour are you alright? Please say something."

Her brows knitted together in confusion- what's going on? Turning her head to the side she saw the familiar curtains that hung in her room. She distantly recalled turning on the light in her bathroom before stumbling out and covering her eyes. Her eyes had stung; a sharp pain had shot out from the backs of her eyes and straight to her brain, radiating a crippling pressure throughout her body.

She whimpered shutting her eyes again, "What happened? My head hurts." She croaked out, her voice hoarse.

Her father smoothed her hair, "You passed out. The Silent Brothers are on their way."

She froze. _Oh by the Angel…_The Silent Brothers were coming? Her father had _actually _called the Institute? The former wasn't as startling as the latter. If a situation got bad enough her father usually called on warlocks- despite his strong dislike for them- rather than getting the Clave involved. If a Silent Brother were to discover Céline's bruises he'd most certainly take her away from her father, and he wasn't having any of that. Though _Céline_ usually healed her aching body with her stele almost immediately after her father's beatings, sometimes he'd take her stele away from her, forcing her heal like a mundane.

She murmured an okay before her head lolled to the side. A scowled etched itself onto her face when her father shook her again. She strained her eyes open as he spoke, "Please mon chérie, stay awake. I drew some _izrates_ on you but you still look pale- the Silent Brother's should know what's wrong, I need you to stay awake till they arrive." He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. "Please."

She grumbled as if to say _fine._ Her father remained by her side, smoothing down her hair, until a loud thumping came from downstairs.

He pushed off the bed, "That must be them."

She didn't care, she just wanted to sleep. Yet, despite the fact that she kept her eyes shut, she could still feel the stinging light in the room burn against her aching eyelids. Her father had probably had turned on the light when he had found her. Casting a limp arm over to the side, she grabbed a poufy pillow before setting it over her face, putting a barrier between her and the harsh light.

"Here-" her father's voice said from the doorway. His voice was slightly pitched- was he as nervous as she was of the Brothers? "_Céline what are you doing?!" _

She groaned, clutching her ears to block out the booming sound of his voice.

_Please Mr. Montclaire, keep your voice down. You're disturbing her,_ a voice said in her head. She heard her father mumble an apology before several footsteps trekked into the room. The bed sank and a hand took hers- her father. A second later the pillow on her face was being removed. She whimpered, "Please, I just- the light it so bright…"

_Anything else you're feeling?_ The same voice asked in her head.

"Yes, a headache."

"A concussion." a familiar voice said- _Professor Fairfox?_ Her eyes flew open and she jolted up- immediately regretting it as her head whirled, a wave of vertigo knocking her back against the pillows. She groaned, slowly turning over to bury her face into her pillow whilst ignoring the sharp intakes of breath resounding around the room like a choir.

"Don't hurt yourself sweetheart." Professor Fairfox's voice said, "We're just here to make sure everything's alright."

"Yes," said an unfamiliar voice, "we're here to make sure everything is alright. Don't you fret."

Her eyebrows furrowed and then she went rigid, ten bony fingers pressed gingerly against her throbbing head. She shivered with the knowledge that it was probably the Silent Brother.

"How is everything Céline?" the unfamiliar voice asked. She wanted to crash against the pillow and die- or at least sleep the pain off. She didn't want to make small talk- couldn't they see she was in pain? And who was this unfamiliar person and why was he here?

"I'm sorry," she said, "your voice doesn't sound familiar."

A throat cleared, "Of course- where are my manners? I am Inquisitor Whitelaw. I've been called on by the Paris Institute guardians. "

She opened her mouth to speak but her father beat her to it, "For _what _exactly?"

"Nothing you need to be aware of at the moment, Mr. Montclaire."

"I believe I have _every right_ to know considering you are in _my _home."

"Please Mr. Montclaire," Professor Fairfox said, "we're here to see Céline- we were all concerned to hear that she collapsed-"

"You know, Inquisitor Whitelaw," her father said, ignoring Professor Fairfox, "while you're here, I'd like to file a complaint."

"A complaint?" said the Inquisitor.

"Yes."

"What sort of complaint?"

"That man- my daughter's Professor-" she suppressed a groan. She knew what coming- the satisfaction in her father's voice wasn't at all suppressed, "I believe he and her are engaging in an inappropriate student teacher relationship."

Fairfox sniggered, "Oh really? _You're _going to accuse _me_ of an inappropriate relationship? _Give me a break._"

"Mr. Montclaire, the situation concerning Mr. Fairfox and your daughter has already been brought to my attention, though if you wish me to further investigate I will- but only after I finish my first investigation."

"_What?"_ Professor Fairfox exclaimed.

"And what is your first investigation? I should hope it won't take up too much of your time as I hope you can get to the bottom of these _revolting _liaisons."

"_Liaisons?!"_ Fairfox cried.

She winced, from the loud booming of her Professors voice and the tender spot on her head that the Silent Brother poked at. She clasped his wrists, ignoring the shiver that shot up her spine, before shoving them away from her, _"STOP." _she gasped.

_A concussion indeed,_ the Brother's voice said in her head,_ there's a small bump located on the back of her head. I will remain with her in order to conduct a further examination, and to assess what I shall do to begin healing her._

"Thank you Brother Micah," Mr. Pontmercy said, "we'll leave you to it."

* * *

"Now...about the reason for my visit." The Inquisitor said whilst getting himself comfortable on the crème colored walnut fauteuil. Mr. Montclaire sat in a replica of the chair a few feet away from him. Mrs. Pontmercy sat beside her husband on the tufted French sofa, her hand resting in his. Fairfox himself stood, still unhinged from the Inquisitors words to Céline's father of conducting an investigation on him over a malicious accusation from a mad man no less.

"Yes," Mr. Montclaire said rubbing his ear lobe, "I was rather surprised to see you at my door Inquisitor Whitelaw. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Fairfox narrowed his eyes at the man. He knew from his extensive studies in psychology that Mr. Montclaire was nervous. The tightness of his facial muscles, the quick and jerky bounce of his knee like rusty cogs on a wheel, and of course the insistent rubbing of his ear. Fairfox continued to watch the man with cool eyes.

The Inquisitor folded his hands in his lap, "Well Mr. Montclaire-"

"Please, call me Joël." He said with a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

The Inquisitor paused, "Alright, _Joël,_" he said as if testing the word on his tongue, "the unfortunate reason for my visiting today concerns your daughter Céline."

Joël's body visibly stiffened- the former cool and collected version of him long and gone- before gritting out, "I don't suppose this is about me forbidding my daughter from attending The Academy, is it?"

Inquisitor Whitelaw waved a hand, "No. It's come to my attention through the observations of the Institute's children that Céline bears extensive bruises along her torso. Said children have also been circulating a rumor that suggests you were the one to place them there, now-"

Her father bolted out the seat, "_That's a lie straight from hell-_ I would never harm Céline, she's my only child!"

The tips of his ears were a flaming shade of red and his breathing was coming out in ragged puffs. Fairfox suppressed a snigger.

"Calm down, Mr. Montclaire-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down, Elliot. It's not your name that's being dragged through the mud- _it's mine._"

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes, "Sir, this could all be cleared up with a simple examination of Céline's torso. I will examine her myself."

Mr. Montclaire seemed at a loss for words. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his nostrils flared. With a wide sweep of his arm he indicated to the staircase, "By all means."

The Inquisitor nodded, rising from his seat, "I will conduct the search myself." He turned, advancing for the staircase, his gray robe fanning out from behind him. Mr. Montclaire turned to Mr. Pontmercy when the Inquisitor was out of earshot, "What the hell is the meaning of this?"

Mr. Pontmercy released his wife's hand and stood up, "Joël, please-"

"No- I thought we were friends. How could you do this to me? After everything I've been through with my wife- why of all people would you suspect me of harming my little girl? Have I ever given you that impression?"

He placed a hand over his face and shook his head, "That's not the point, Joël. There have been rumors about-"

"_And you believe them?!"_

"LISTEN TO ME. At first _no_- how could I believe such atrocious things from such a good man? But- well after your absurd reaction last night I don't know what to think. It just seems…it seems as if the shoe fits."

"So, because I wish to keep my daughter- _my only child_- close to me, you think I'm beating her?" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I mean- really? Her mother's an alcoholic, and you didn't suspect _her_?"

Mr. Pontmercy's cast his eyes to the floor, "Joël, I really am sorry, but if I ignored what I heard and something befell that girl I'd be held responsible by the Clave. It's my job to report anything that seems suspicious of child abuse or neglect. I heard what I heard from the people she trains with closely, what was I supposed to do?"

Mr. Montclaire strode to stand before the man. Their height differences made it seem as if he were hovering over him like a threatening storm. Jutting a finger out, he pointed a finger at the man's chest, "You were supposed to be my friend."

Mr. Pontmercy's eyes snapped up to his. The distressed mask that painted his face gone and replaced with a scowl, "My loyalty lies within the Clave, if you can't understand that then I don't know what it is you think being a Shadowhunter means."

"He's right," said Mrs. Pontmercy, "If something were to happen to Céline because of our disregard for something we thought was a false we'd be punished by the Clave- and they aren't so forgiving."

Mr. Montclaire scoffed and turned to walk back to his chair, making a grand show of collapsing into it, much like a petulant child. They stood there awkwardly, shifting in the uncomfortable silence till the sound of the door upstairs opening pulled their attention to the top of the staircase where the Inquisitor stood, "Not a bruise in sight." He announced with a small smile, almost as if he were relieved.

Fairfox blinked, "Surely he must have used an _izrate._"

The Inquisitor shrugged while descending the stairs, "There were a couple adorning her shoulders, but he had no knowledge of me coming over to visit. Nor that anyone would be inspecting her torso."

Mrs. Pontmercy beamed, "Well that's good to hear. I'm glad this had been all sorted out."

_No, something's not right._ Fairfox shot a quick sideways glance at Mr. Montclaire who was looking far too relieved for a man who claimed innocence. He wanted to pummel the man into a bloody pulp. Clinching his jaw he turned his attention back to the Inquisitor, "Sir I sincerely doubt Jeremy Pontmercy would lie to his father about something of this magnitude- he knows the consequences. Perhaps you could extent your stay just to be sure-"

The Inquisitor made an impatient noise, "I don't have time for that Mr. Fairfox. You've all already wasted enough of my time here today. Besides, Brother Micah says he can care better for Céline at the Institute, so she will rest there."

Mr. Montclaire bolted out of his seat, his boots hitting the ground with a loud thud, "No, no, no. My daughter isn't sleeping under the same room as him." He said pointing a finger at Fairfox.

Fairfox rolled his eyes and dropped his hands at his sides, "I don't even _live there._"

Inquisitor Whitelaw ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted, "Look, I had an important case I needed to review about a rouge vampire in Barcelona but I interrupted it because I got the call from your Institute last night. Normally I wouldn't dare do such a thing, but this case held a…personal interest to me, if you will, so I took it. I came, I checked the girl myself and she looks fine- well as fine as you can look with a concussion but I digress.

"Brother Micah can't do much here in your home I'm afraid, Mr. Montclaire, as most of the healing properties he needs lie within the Institute walls. She will come with us and she will stay in the infirmary for however long Brother Micah recommends." After a beat he said, "She should live."

"'_She should live?'"_ her father bellowed, "What do you mean- 'she should live', how serious _is _this concussion?"

"Yes," Fairfox said, his eyes raking over Mr. Montclaire with freezing contempt, "how serious _is_ the concussion- and _how _did she get it?"

Mr. Montclaire's eyes flashed to his, a spark of rage gleaming in his blue eyes. Fairfox didn't shift his gaze, locking his eyes on the man in an unrelenting stare. Observing their behavior the Inquisitor snapped, "Oh, _enough already._ Céline says she fell in the shower, that's all! Now stop acting so ridiculous."

Mr. Montclaire visibly relaxed. He looked away first, "I'm going to say goodbye to Céline." He said before ducking his head and ascending the stairs.

Fairfox exhaled; _well at least she'll be safe at the Institute, even if it only is for one night._

* * *

Céline flitted in and out of consciousness; pitch black one second and too bright the next. The pull of darkness was much too great for her to resist given her weakened state. Careening in a sea of nothingness she forced herself to try and remember what had brought her here in the first place. Blurred flashes of memories painted themselves in her minds eyes, unveiling before her like a grainy old movie. Professor Fairfox sparkled into her vision and beamed at her, placing a graded exam on her desk that read _A++_. Just as soon as the image manifested itself, it was gone.

A nauseating pain shot out through the darkness and gripped her with its might. Jerking wildly to escape its piercing claws, another vision flared out before her. Her father- looking much younger- came into view. He flashed the tender smile he saved only for her. A younger version of herself laid on the ground reading, the window wide open emitting the soft sounds of a song floating in from next door. She beamed up him and rushed over to embrace him, attempting to sneak a glimpse at whatever it was he had behind his back.

"_Now, now, mon chérie. This is an expensive little treasure I have here for you- well it's actually a family heirloom, but expensive nonetheless._" _The arm hiding behind his back extended out to her holding a red circular case that fit perfectly in the palm of his large hands. She clapped her petite hands, her eyes sparkling, "What is it, papa? Can I open it now?" _

_He shifted into the room, shutting the door behind him. He grasped her hand in his and trekked over to the bed. "Come sit, Céline." _

_She bounced over to the bed and hopped onto the edge. Still beaming, she rested her head on her father's shoulder, "Are we going to go to the bakery to get cupcakes?" she asked. _

_Wrapping a muscled arm around, her he pulled her onto his lap. Her face reddened as she pushed away from him mumbling, "Papa, I'm not a little girl anymore." _

_He caressed her cheek, "I know that, mon ange…I know." His hand trailed down from her cheek to her neck and right to her-_

_Her eyes widened, "Papa- stop." she jerked away, flinging his roaming hand away from her. _

_He sighed, almost as if he were sad. He looked down at the small box in his hands, "You look just the way your mother did when she was your age. She was so beautiful back then…" his voice trailed off into the ghost of a whisper. After a beat he cleared his throat, bringing his glassy eyes up to hers, "But now I have you, don't I? You love papa, right mon chérie? Don't you?" _

_She nodded, unsure of where he was going with all of this, "Yes papa, I love you. You know that." _

_He smiled and dropped the red box containing Céline's birthday gift onto the bed. He walked to the door and pulled out his stele drawing an unfamiliar rune against the wood there. Tilting her head to the side she squinted at the black lines, "What rune is that?"_

_Stuffing the stele back into his pocket, he began removing his shirt. Céline looked away. "It doesn't matter." He said._

"_Um…papa? Can I go play downstairs?" _

_He approached her and dropped to his knees. He fingered the hoops of her denim skirt whilst kissing her thighs, "We'll play here."_

_Her eyes shut at the unwanted sensation. Goosebumps pricked all along her skin, a slow heat caressing her between her legs. He moved his hand inside her thighs, tracing light circles there. She made a noise of surprise, a small moan escaping her parted lips. _

_His warm tongue flicked out and licked up her thigh. She shivered and another- more throaty-moan fell from her lips. Spots flickered in her vision as her body shook in at the sensation. She was panting now, her body craving more and more of her father's ministrations, yet at the same time she wanted him to stop, turn around and leave. _

_His hair brushed the insides of her thighs, "Lie back, mon chérie." He whispered. His voice, thick with an unidentifiable emotion, tickled her core. She shuddered, blinking tears out of her eyes, "Papa, please stop. I don't like this." _

_Without warning his hand reached forward and drew her panties aside, allowing him access to the thing he'd wanted most. He cursed in French, "You're so wet for me, mon bébé…" he spoke into her sensitive area, "only for papa." He lowered his lips to onto her. _

_She sucked in a sharp breath and raked her fingers through his hair. Eyes rolling to the back of her head, she whimpered as he pressed hard kisses on her. She released a shaky breath when he flicked his tongue out against her nub, making her to collapse onto the bed and buck her hips up. He continued his insistent flicking till her heart quaked and she could no longer resist herself from wrapping her thighs around his head._

"_Mmmmhh…papa- please, papa- Oh-oh-oh- AHHHHH." _

_Her body shuddered against his tongue, releasing her first orgasm. She panted, releasing her grip on his hair. Her father chuckled against her nub, sending a flurry of nerves into knots as the delicious vibrations caressed her spot. "Mmmmh…" she whimpered._

_Her father brought his head up to look at her, his lips glistening with her nectar, "What's that? You want more?" he whispered seductively. _

_She propped herself up on her elbows, shaking her head furiously. A broken sob escaped her lips, "No! Please papa." _

_He reached for a strand of her hair, pulling at it lightly, "Don't be shy, if you want more papa can keep making you feel good. It's your birthday after all."_

_She shut her eyes as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She continued to shake her head, "Please no. Stop." _

_Her father sat on the bed beside her and pulled her to him. She flinched at his touch. _

"_I was just going to leave it at that, but after seeing how much you liked it perhaps I should just give you your entire gift today." _

_She squirmed against him, "I thought the red box was my gift."_

_He kissed the top of her head and began stroking the inside of her thigh again. She clamped her legs shut. "Oh don't be shy Céline, its only papa. You don't need to be shy around me. I want to give you this gift; it would mean so much to me." _

_Releasing a shaky breath she asked, "What gift?"_

_He placed a finger under her chin, bringing her head up to look at him, "The gift of guiding you to womanhood." _

_She raised an eyebrow, "But I thought I'm already a woman because of my…you know…" she blushed, not wanting to say 'period' to her father._

_His gaze dipped to her décolletage- not that there was much to look at. He placed a hand on her hip before lowering his head to her neck, where he nipped at the skin there. She yelped. He dug his fingers into her, "Shhh. Yes you're right, you did become a woman when you bled for the first time, but now I will do the honors of consummating it." He continued his nipping and sucking._

_She shivered, gripping his muscled arms, "Papa- what?"_

_He pressed his weight on her, lying her back down onto the pink covered bed. Not moving from her neck, he sneaked a hand under her t shirt and gripped her bra cover breast. She yelped. This isn't right…why is he doing this…_

"_Relax Céline, you're going to feel ever better this time."_

_She whimpered and pushed herself away from him. Darting off the bed she reached for the door and turned the knob only to find that it wouldn't open. She gasped and turned back to her father who was walking over to her with a look in his eyes that she'd never seen before. He reached out for her, holding her thin arms in a vice like grip. "Don't run from me Céline. What were you going to do? Tell? After all I've given you- after all I've done for you?" His hand came down and cracked across her face. Her head tossed back and she went limp against him._

_Gathering her up in his arms, he set her on the edge on the bed faced down. He reached around her waist to unbutton her skirt before sliding it down her legs along with her drenched panties. She groaned as he- not so gently- lifted the shirt over her head. Her bra was the last to go. _

_He turned her over and raked his eyes over her naked body, a shuddering breath fell from his lips. "By the Angel…where to begin." His eyes went up to hers, "Oh Céline, how beautiful you truly are. Papa is going to make you feel so good. But first…" he said walking over to the window, pulling it shut. He then released the tie from around the curtains, letting them fall open, blocking the view from the window. "There, much better." He said._

_He slid his pants off and walked over to her. She reclined her head on the bed which was still spinning from his blow. He pressed himself against her, grinding his hardness up against her hole. She sobbed, pushing away from him with what little strength she could muster but it was useless. He gripped her hips, grinding her back onto him. He hissed and threw his head back. He released her momentarily to slide his boxers off, to which she took the opportunity to crawl up the bed, away from him. He chuckled watching her before pulling her by her leg back down to him. _

"_Listen to me Céline." He said menacingly. He had never spoken to her this way before. It sent ice into her blood. "Papa is going to fuck you, and he's going to fuck you long and hard. Of course, you'll enjoy it- however I don't want any screaming. Understand?" he reached down to trace a finger over her entrance, causing both of them to release a shaky breath. _

_He reached down to the floor for his pants and fiddled with the pocket before pulling out a little square foil. Ripping it open, he stretched the latex over his throbbing length before looking back up at her, "By the Angel, get over here." _

_He gripped her hips and flipped her over so that she was faced down on the bed again. He positioned himself at her entrance, the honey from her coating the tip of his length. He grunted, and in a single swift thrust he was inside her. _

_Her eyes watered as stars burst behind her eyelids. How could the man who swore up and down that he loved her do such a thing? Had he lost his mind? She gripped the bed covers while her limbs trembled at her father's intrusion. Biting back a scream she slowly breathed in and out to prevent herself from going into hysteria. _

_His hips thrusts were slow at first but after a couple of throaty grunts he picked up his pace to an earth-shattering speed. The tears brimming in her eyes tumbled down her rosy cheeks then, a surge of shame and embarrassment agitating her stomach as she moaned and moved her hips up to meet his thrusts._

"_Yes. Yes. Yes." He chanted with each mind-blowing thrust. He brought his hand down hard and fast, slapping her rear vigorously. She yelped at each blow. _

_The heat that had collected itself in her core earlier was manifesting itself once again- though this time she could tell it would be a much more violent release. Her legs shook; a scorching fire wound itself around her like great serpent applying more and pressure to the bubble that was already threatening to rupture. _

"_ah-ah-ah-AH-AHHH-AHHHHHH!" she screamed as showers of sparks, much like that of a fountain, jumped into her vision. She spasmed and heaved against the bed as she climaxed a second time. _

_Slumped and exhausted she shut her eyes in a futile attempt to block out her father's fevered grunts and moans. With one final thrust of his hips he shattered behind her, releasing his seed into the latex. _

Céline shot up in the bed with a blood-curdling scream. Her red-rimmed eyes darted over the room and rested on a figure hovering over by the door- _literally _hovering over by the door.

_Child, _the voice said in her mind, _do not fear, whatever it was, it was merely a dream. _

A loud bashing from the other side of the closed door caused her to jump,_ "Celine?!" _ Her father shouted, _"Brother Micah, what's happening?!"_

Her head lolled back against the pillow before the darkness claimed her once again.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**FINALLY. 17 PAGES. Sheesh! Who would've thought I could write so much?**

**Explanations: **

**1. When Celine was thinking in her first vision, '**_**Dead and gone,**_** she wondered, **_**but**__**papa can't die- he's indestructible, enduring, an endless constant…he can't just die.' **_**It's not because she longs for him (well at least not the bad version of him), it's because much like how a child views their parents as all-knowing and all-powerful, Céline views her father as a never-ceasing, practically deathless, aspect of her life. In chapter three (Cupcakes and Misconceptions) Sophia said to Céline, **_**'Betcha' can't wait till you turn eighteen, huh?' **_**To which Céline responded with…**_**'Céline smiled lopsidedly and nodded, though she knew in her heart that age probably wouldn't change a thing about her situation.'**_

**So in Céline's mind she perceives her situation with her father as a perpetual sort of thing that she has no way of escaping. For her to hear of her father's death is something that she can't entirely wrap her head around. **

**2. When Céline tells the Shadowhunter, **_**'Where is he? What have you done to him?!' **_**it's because her father is all she's ever known- all she ever thought she'd know. She never imagined she'd have the opportunity to become independent of him. It's like how a child is dependent on their parent(s). If said parent(s) were to suddenly disappear the child would feel abandoned and scared- this is how Céline feels in her vision- despite the fact that her father is a crazy loony. **

**Not to mention, a part of her wishes that her father could go back to begin just her father instead of her tormentor. If her father is **_**'dead and gone' **_**then how can he ever redeem himself in her eyes? She yearns for her father to revert to his former self. The man she remembers from her childhood. Though she does hate her father for robbing her of her innocence and transforming her into the weak/fearful creature that she perceives herself to be, we simply can't lump all of her emotions for him into 'just pure hatred'- there's more to it than that. **

**3. The bump on Céline's head is a concussion which would explain her vivid dream/light sensitivity/flashback of her childhood. **

**4. The Inquisitor didn't find any bruises on Céline because of the runes her father drew on her. Her father through, age and skill, can naturally draw better runes than her- though _she is_ one of the best in her rune drawing class, she still is only fifteen and is not an artist by any means. **

**Again, thanks for reading!**

**Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. **


	6. Light & Reflection

"Well at least she's okay."

Professor Fairfox stared out the Institute window cinching his jaw. Her father got lucky putting those _izrates_ on Céline. The girl seemed fine now, but if his suspicions where true she was harboring a secret too great for a girl her age to burden. He shook his head; perhaps his personal relationship with Céline was clouding his judgment. The Inquisitor saw what the Inquisitor saw. He was a man of the law- one of the highest orders of the law in their government. He certainly wouldn't have lied about Céline's non-existent injuries. Perhaps he was reading too much in between the lines- maybe there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. Traumatic events can bring on the symptoms he'd associated with her. Perhaps having an alcoholic for a mother brought on her feelings of wanting to distance herself from the other children due to the embarrassment that accompanied her situation. Maybe she just obeyed orders without question because she was a good girl and she just wanted the approval of her superiors as most people desire.

But then there was the eye witness account of Céline's extensive injuries by none other than Jeremy Pontmercy. He released a controlled breath, "Yes. What a joyous day it is."

Mr. Pontmercy arched a brow, "I sense sarcasm."

He turned to him, his golden eyes burning, "Yes- I can't help _but _be sarcastic. When's the next time something like this happens? Hell- she has to go back to that monster tonight. Of course I'm glad she's well- but now," he shook his head and turned back to the window, "I just feel…I don't know, frustrated that this bastard is getting away with this. And if I say I hope he gets caught- which I hope he does- it'll mean another beating or worse for Céline. But it's the only way we'll have evidence against him."

Mr. Pontmercy pursed his lips, "Andrew, don't work yourself up. If anything was going on before, perhaps this little incident will scare him into stopping."

_Or make him that much more careful._

Jeremy Pontmercy's head flashed in his head. He turned to Mr. Pontmercy then, "I'm going to be in my office if you need me."

* * *

_She blinked awake and winced at the numb feeling between her legs. A cool breeze rushed in and blanketed her naked body with goose bumps. Blinking against the bright light in her room, she propped herself onto her elbows and stared down at herself, sucking in a sharp breath. The insides of her upper-most thighs were smeared in a trail of dried red brown blood that lead up to her private. She brought a hand up to her cheek and felt the tender puffed skin there. She sniffled, trying her hardest not to recall the events earlier that day. Or rather, who initiated them._

_Wincing as she sat up, she scooted to the edge of the bed and lifted herself up with all the caution she could muster. She stumbled to her bathroom, wanting to rid herself of the dirty feeling crawling across her skin and imbedding itself deep into her bones. Suppressing a scream she lowered herself into steaming hot tub of water, wishing it would burn her skin away. Burn her away. _

_She cried an agonized and tormented sound that felt as if she were ripping apart as she scrubbed herself raw till she bled. Finally when the tears stopped tumbling down her cheeks it was as if a black hole sucked away everything from within her: her soul was cut-away, her heart shattered and gone, her sense of security destroyed. She was aware of the loss of feeling, though something still hurt. _

_She was a blank sheet of paper. Empty. _

Peeling her tired eyes open, she swallowed the lump threatening to form in her throat.

"Good you're awake."

She gasped and twisted her head to the door. Jessamine peered in, her light blue eyes raking the room, "Good, your dad isn't here. He keeps trying to visit."

She blinked, "He's _trying_ to visit?"

The girl pushed the door open and padded in barefoot. "Yeah, you've been out for two days. Brother Micah said you weren't allowed any visitors while he was treating you, but you're all better now so I figured your dad would be here by now- unless Mr. Pontmercy didn't call to tell him that you're awake. Whatever. Brother Micah also says it wouldn't hurt if you stood one more day. So guess where you're staying tonight."

Her throat felt dry but she managed to croak out, "Here?"

"Bingo. Sophia and I will figure out the details, you just rest while you can. Tonight's going to be fun." The girl sat down in one of the seats closest to her bed. She twirled a pale blonde lock of hair between her fingers, "I gotta keep watch and tell the others when you wake up."

Propping herself onto her elbows, her brows knitted together, "Oh…well I'm awake now."

Jessamine nodded whilst brushing some non-existent dust of her black pants, "Yeah, I know. I just have a few questions."

She gulped. "Questions?"

The girl nodded, "Yeah. So first things first, falling in the shower must suck right?"

_Falling in the shower?_ She shook her head, not understanding the line of question, "I guess."

Jessamine leaned forward in her seat, "You guess?"

"Yes. I'm sure it must hurt. I've never actually fallen in the shower but it sounds awful."

The girl crossed her arms, "Strike one."

Strike one? She laid back against the pillows of the bed too tired to try and make sense of what she was saying, "What do you mean?"

Jessamine laughed humorously, "You really don't remember do you? I'm surprised you've hidden it for so long since you can't even seem to keep track of your lies. When the Inquisitor asked you how you got that bump on your head you told him that you fell in the shower. But according to just now it seems as if you lied. Am I right?"

She shrunk back from her, her blue eyes flying wide, "What? I never said that. He never asked me that. Why would I lie to the Inquisitor?"

Jessamine rubbed her eyes, "You're joking right? You're going to sit here and lie about never having been questioned? I heard the Pontmercy's talking about, don't play the fool."

Her mind reeled, "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Look," she began, "if your dad is hurting you or something you should speak up. You're safe here- I mean, by the Angel, why would you defend someone who-"

"You _look_," she spat, growing infuriated with the girl, "my father is a good man. He's never laid a hand on me and he NEVER WILL. Don't you _dare_ accuse him of hurting me. He's done nothing but love me."

"_Jessamine Olivia Cartwright." _

Their heads whipped around to the sound of the voice. Mr. Pontmercy stood red faced in the door way- she hadn't even heard the door open. He stalked in, his eyes never leaving Jessamine, "What on earth do you think you're doing? You were told to alert us as to when she wakes up, not to question her." He pointed a finger to the doorway, "_Leave._"

Jessamine resembled that of a scolded puppy. She ducked her head and mumbled an apology before darting out the infirmary.

He turned to her, "I'm very sorry Céline. Jessamine is nosy." He shot her a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes, "How are you feeling."

_Please no more questions. _"Fine, thank you for asking."

"Very well. I'll go get Brother Micah." He turned and left.

She squeezed her eyes shut, silently wishing that she were home and not under the suspicious eyes of the people here within the Institutes wall. At least at home she didn't have to pretend or defend her normalcy. She'd cook, clean, and keep herself busy till her father came home. He'd eat his meal and bond with her in the privacy of her bedroom. If she was a good girl she wouldn't get hit. It wasn't the best arrangement, but it didn't give her as much anxiety as she felt here within the constricting walls of the Institute, where her lies pressed onto her chest like an anvil. She swallowed the lump in throat and bit her tongue. She wouldn't allow herself to cry here. Brother Micah would be up any minute.

"_Look, if your dad is hurting you or something you should speak up. You're safe here- I mean, by the Angel, why would you defend someone who-"_

She suppressed a sob. Her head screamed at her, _why did you make the same mistake again- you should've said something. _

_I want to go home. _Her heart constricted- who was really home? A sputtering inebriate for a mother and a monster for a father. Nobody's home. Nobody worth returning to at least.

Feeling a drop of moisture slip from her eye, she hastily brought her hand up to wipe it away, just as the door opened.

_Child,_ Brother Micah said coming over to the side of her bed, _all is well. You've made a quite remarkable recovery. I'd simply recommend rest and perhaps another day at the Institute to ensure your recovery is complete. _

She sat up and blinked at what she could see of his mutilated face. Ensure your recovery is complete? So it wasn't a sure thing?

_Though nothing should happen. I'm off now to the Silent City. Do you have any questions?_

She shook her head, "No."

As he bowed his head, his hood lowering down as well. _Good day, Ms. Montclaire._

She suppressed a shiver as she watched him leave the room. She'd never understand why someone would agree to have themselves mutilated in such a way.

Lying back against the pillows, her thoughts wandered back to her previous train of thought before Brother Micah interrupted. She once dreamed of angels taking her by the hand and flying her up to somewhere new. They're eyes sparkling with the joy she felt in heart at being taken away from the darkness plaguing her. The angels never came, but her father did. Every night.

Her heart ached with a spirit of wondrous yearn. A place with glittering canals that reflected the perfectly clear skies shining above. Tumbling hills of fresh smelling grass, a back drop for a city of glass. A smile teased the corners of her lips as she thought of a future life in Idris. She'd have a husband who loved her and a child or two. Perhaps they'd look like her.

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. Sophia peered in, "Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice small, "Mrs. Pontmercy made lunch."

Her stomach decided to make itself known at the moment. Shooting the girl a sheepish smile, she replied, "What's for lunch?"

* * *

Jeremy paced the length of his room, pinching his nose, "Look Professor, I told the Inquisitor what I saw. I wouldn't lie to him- I mean I'm not an idiot."

Professor Fairfox shook his head, "Are you absolutely-"

"_Yes!_" Jeremy exclaimed for what was probably the hundredth time, "It's what I saw. She had black and blue and yellow spots along the side of her body. Now can you leave? I'm sure my father won't be too happy to hear about this."

He blew out a breath, "Very well Jeremy." He stood up from the wooden chair, "Thank you for cooperating." He turned to leave.

"Wait."

Frowning, he turned to the boy, "Yes?"

Jeremy titled his head, his eyes narrowed, "She had a hand shaped bruise on her hip. It looked like a guy's hand."

Fairfox's closed his eyes and attempted a leveled voice, "You tell me this now?"

The boy shrugged, "I just- sorry. It's weird…thinking that someone would hurt her like that."

Fairfox scoffed, "You hurt her all the time."

"Well, yeah. But not like that."

He didn't even know why he was in Jeremy's room. The boy could tell him he saw the words _Joël was here_ on the girl and it wouldn't matter if they could not produce evidence. He covered his eyes with one hand, "I'll be in my office."

"Wait."

_What now. _"Yes?"

The boy grinned, white teeth gleaming, "I got my letter from The Academy. Thanks for recommending me."

Fairfox gave him a curt nod, "You deserve it."

* * *

"Alright," Sophia declared through bites of lentil salad, "so tonight we're going to go dancing at that club Chaos. Of course, we'll need to pick something out for you to wear Céline, since your father only packed you basic looking clothes." She eyed the girls petite frame, "you'd probably fit more into Jessamine's clothes."

Jessamine nodded, "Yeah, probably. We'll have to go over to my house to pick up some clothes for you so eat up, buttercup."

Céline smiled into her bowl of lentil salad, mumbling a quick thank you. She'd never gone dancing before, though her father did pay for her ballroom dancing lessons when she was younger. However, there probably wouldn't be much ballroom dancing in a club called Chaos. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird with nervousness and excitement. She'd look pretty. She'd have fun. She would be a fifteen year old girl who danced and got the attention of handsome boys only to ignore them.

"…we've got plenty of time for hair and makeup. It's a good thing you have blue eyes like us." Jessamine said with a flip of her hair, "the eye shadow palette we have accentuates us blue eyed girls."

* * *

Professor Fairfox lumbered down the steps of the Institute, onto the streets of Paris, in search of lunch. He couldn't eat there today. Not with Céline sitting right across the table acting as if nothing had happened. A warm breeze rustled the red hair a top his head and filled his nostrils with smell of car exhaust. Rounding the corner he caught sight of an angry looking Mr. Montclaire. He thundered forward in the direction of the Institute, hands clenched at his sides. He barely noticed the Professor till he reached out a hand to stop him. The man jerked back, eyes bloodshot, he glared at him, "Out of my way." he spat.

Fairfox eyed him, he looked exhausted. Circles under his eyes, unshaven cheeks- and an all around unkempt appearance tipped him off that perhaps Céline's father wasn't sleeping.

"Mr. Montclaire, perhaps you should go home and sleep. If Céline see's you in this condition it'll do nothing but scare her."

The man's eyes went wide, "She's awake?" he shoved him away and hurried to the grand doors of the Institute.

Fairfox watched him hop up the steps, taking two at a time.

* * *

Jessamine kicked a shoebox aside whilst dropping her bag onto the cherry wood floor. Sophia pulled Céline to the edge of the girl's bed to wait.

"I know exactly what you could wear Céline." Jessamine said rummaging through her wardrobe before pulling out a pair of black high-waisted shorts adorned with splatters of neon paint.

Sophia snorted at her side, "Céline's girly- give her a dress."

"Fine." Jessamine said with a huff. A minute later she pulled out what looked to be a shiny white shirt. She handed it to Céline with a smile, "It's one of my favorites, so don't spill any faerie drinks on it."

She blinked and pulled back, "Faerie drinks? Oh- I won't be drinking any."

Jessamine scowled, "Um, yeah you will. How else are we going to have fun?"

Sophia waved a hand, "You don't have to drink anything if you don't want to Céline, it's just that some drinks the fey make allow you to release your inhibitions and have more fun. Just don't get on anyone's bad side tonight or they might slip something nasty in your drink."

She nodded looking down at the article of clothing, "Do you have pants or a skirt to go with this?"

Jessamine looked at her to gauge whether the question was serious or not before bursting into a fit of giggles, "That's a dress."

_A dress? _ She eyed the shiny clothing article with round eyes, "It won't cover anything…"

Sophia nodded, "Yes it will. Jessamine's taller then you and it covers her up just enough. It should be fine on you."

She bit her lip and turned to gaze out the window. The sky was clear and the weather was good except for the occasional gust of wind. It shouldn't rain, so she probably wouldn't need a jacket. A figure across the street caught her gaze. Familiar blue eyes stared at her, unmoving.

She screamed, leaping from the edge of the bed, clutching the dress to her chest.

"What! What is it!?" Jessamine exclaimed.

She whipped her head to the side, casting a quick glance at the pale blonde before darting her eyes back to the figure out the window- who was no longer there.

"I-I…" she stammered. Her father's eyes. Her father was watching her. Following her. "I thought I saw my dad…"

Jessamine marched over to the window and gazed out, her eyes sweeping over the empty street. She shrugged, "I don't see anything. Maybe you aren't as recovered as Brother Micah thought."

Her heartbeat drummed within her ears. Despite this, she could feel her blood pressure drop. She knew what she saw. She wasn't crazy- not yet at least. Setting the dress onto the bed, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "I need to use the bathroom."

Jessamine arched a brow, "You alright? You look pale."

She nodded, "The bathroom?"

"Last door by the staircase."

Ducking her head, she darted out the room and down the hall. Her body tingled, her chest hurt, and she felt the all too familiar whirl of lightheadedness. By the time she reached the bathroom she was shaking. Locking the door behind her she turned a fancy sink handle, releasing a gush of cold water. She splashed some onto her face. Inhaling slow deep breaths, she dared a glance at her reflection in the mirror above. Like Jessamine had said, she looked pale.

Cupping her hands under the running faucet, she brought some water up to her chapped lips and drank.

There was a faint knock at the door. "Come in."

The door opened, revealing Sophia, "You okay? We don't have to go dancing if you don't-"

"I'm fine. Really, I want to go."

Her blue eyes sparkled, "Really? Oh, okay- well we're going to start getting ready now. Jessamine is making faerie drinks downstairs- she got the recipe from some water sprite. Come back when you're ready. I'll do your makeup."

Wiping her wet hands on the sides of her skirt, she smiled, "I'm ready now."

* * *

The whirling lights overhead darted about the club at seizure inducing speeds. Coming here was probably not such a good idea for a newly recovered concussion patient, but Brother Micah had reassured her that she was completely fine now and that she could return to her normal activities- though this wasn't exactly one of her typical everyday activities. Sophia led her to the edge of the dance floor, her pink drink sloshing and spilling over the sugar coated rim. She took in a deep breath and inhaled the scent of strong body odor, and the mix and mingling of cheap perfumes and colognes. The pounding bass thumped in her ears and echoed in her bones. Strobe lights flashed over people dancing with dead eyes, distorted expressions, empty memories, and no hearts. She knew just by the aura of anarchy and misery radiating off them in waves. They were young, yet old enough to have fully tasted the bitter poison of disappointment. Disenchanted dreamers, who once groped the strings of hope, all swayed together to the beat of the bass, their limbs and hips gyrating to their misfortunate twists of fate. It chilled her. Perhaps the faerie drink Jessamine made her was inducing her oddly philosophical side- if she had one.

"Alright Ms. Montclaire," Sophia called over the music, "show me what you got!"

She blinked at the dark haired girl, not entirely understanding what she meant. Sophia raised her glass and threw her head back, allowing the rhythm of the music to guide her curvy hips. She blushed and looked away, feeling almost as if she were intruding on a private moment. Glancing around, she tried to mimic one of the more conservative dances she observed; a quick bounce from side to side.

Mundanes and Downworlder's were all piled onto the dance floor, intermingling with one another. An oblivious mundane girl allowed a burly werewolf to buy her a drink, giggling and touching his arm as he leaned over her. A group of vampire girls shamelessly flirted with a cute mundane boy who chuckled at their obviously suggestive comments, their hungry eyes ravishing his well built body with absolute abandon. By the looks of it, he was probably used to this sort of attention.

He leaned into the vampire girl with red stained lips and whispered something in her ear, making her giggle. An amethyst colored strobe light flashed across his face momentarily, but long enough for her to make out his features. She stopped her dancing. It wasn't a mundane. It was the Shadowhunter who had helped bring her father home the other day. She'd recognize his hazel-blue eyes anywhere.

As if he could sense her stare, his gaze found hers in the crowd. The bar lights above him illuminated his surprised expression and the ghost of a smile teasing the corners of his lips. An elbow jabbed into her side, making her wince. She turned to glare at the perpetrator, stopping short when her gaze landed on a tall, pale, dark haired vampire. He grinned down at her with white sharp razor teeth, "Hey gorgeous."

She shivered, her blood running cold. Craning her head behind his tall frame, she tried to catch a glimpse of Sophia- who was now nowhere to be seen. She gazed back up at the creepy vampire leering down at her. Jutting her chin out she said, "I'm not interested."

He howled out a laugh, a cruel sound that twisted in her stomach. Clenching her jaw, she turned to walk back to the table where they had left Jessamine, only to be yanked back by a cold hand. A heavy breath tickled her neck as a voice whispered, "But you haven't even given me a chance."

She gasped; a muscular arm snaked around her waist then, pulling her away from the cold touch of the vampire. Opening her mouth to scream, a smooth voice behind her called, "_Back off,_ she's with me."

Craning her head back, she caught a glimpse of the man- the Shadowhunter. The one with the dreamy eyes. She blushed against his touch.

The vampire sniggered, "But we were about to have so much fun."

Ignoring him, the Shadowhunter pulled her away from the dance floor. She eyed his line of vision to the only empty sofa on the far side of the club. She resisted yanking her arm back. Sure he was a fellow Shadowhunter, but he was a boy or a man- and if her father had been following her as she suspected, she'd be in a lot of trouble for allowing this boy to pull her onto a couch in a dark corner of a club. Her stomach reeled at the thought of her egg being shoved up her so far it tickled her organs.

The Shadowhunter sat at the edge of the couch and pulled her down with him. They were sitting close to each other, their knees knocking together. If there was enough light she was sure she'd be able to see every fleck of light reflecting in his beautiful eyes. Ducking her head down, she scooted over a bit, allowing them to have a few inches of space. He still hadn't released her hand; she bit her tongue to suppress a grin. Not trusting herself to speak, she waited for him to say something.

"What are you doing here mon chérie?" he called over the music, his gaze intently fixed on her. She silently thanked the angel for the dimness of the corner as her cheeks heated. "I was just with some friends. I lost one of them on the dance floor- Sophia Monteverde. Do you know her?"

A pink skinned, white haired faerie came by with a tray of sparkling colorful drinks. The Shadowhunter waved her over and took two pilsner glasses filled with a baby blue colored liquid off the tray. He handed her one with a smile and nodded, "Yes, her father and I patrol occasionally. I'm his protégé so to speak."

_Protégé? _She hadn't known Sofia's father to be the mentoring type- though he was very fatherly. She smiled to herself, recalling the time her own father had demanded her to stop eating so much, just after the first time he imposed himself on her. She had taken up eating quite more than usual since chewing helped keep her mind off the hurt in her heart. Her father was picking her up from the Institute early that day to punish her for her outburst the night before. She had kicked, screamed and threatened to run away forever. She thought perhaps she could scare her father into stopping his abuse as she was humiliated and ashamed of herself. Of course, as fate would have it, he was not stirred.

She silently shook in her seat in the Institute dining room as she continuously declined the pizza slices being pushed her way. If her father walked in on her eating a pizza slice she'd get into more trouble than she was already in. He wanted her thin. When the other kids got tired of coaxing her they turned to each other to talk about some upcoming trip.

Mr. Monteverde crouched beside her chair and whispered, "I got you a something," He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a rectangular packaged granola bar, setting it on her lap, "I thought perhaps you are being more health conscience now that you are becoming a young women. My wife never ate pizza- she always said she was watching her figure. But you need to eat something after all that training. Especially since you're still growing."

She nodded, ripping the package open before her stomach growled at her. "Thank you, Mr. Monteverde."

"Oh." she said before taking a sip of her drink. It was sweet and tickled her tongue. "I didn't know that. Are you being taught any specific skill?"

"He's helping me specialize in shurikens."

Her eyes lit up, though he probably couldn't see in the dimness of the corner, "Oh wow, that's hard. So he must be good then, huh?" The only weapon she had an affinity to was a seraph blade and there was nothing too special about that.

He nodded, "Yeah, he's the best."

She smiled a bit and cast her gaze down to fiddle with the edge of her dress, taking another sip from the delicious liquid. The taste faintly reminded her of the coconut shavings she used a top her yogurt when she was younger.

After a brief pause he spoke up, "My name is Christophe, in case you were wondering."

_Christophe. Where have I heard that name before?_

She gazed down at his right hand and caught sight of his ring- a ring in the shape of a serpent.

"Christophe Verlac." She said matter-o-factly. That was the name her father would mention at the table during dinner. Christophe and Isaac, the men he usually hunted with when Mr. Pontmercy was too busy handling Institute business.

He followed her gaze and grinned, "Clever girl. Though I don't see you wearing your family ring, Ms. Montclaire. Why ever would that be?"

She grimaced. Why ever would she want to bear the ring that symbolized everything she hated? Her family. "I lost it."

He squeezed her hand, "Ask to get another one."

"I will," she grinned as convincingly as she could, "I'll ask my father."

Darting her eyes back to the club, she caught the glare of the vampire girls who were previously flirting with Christophe. The girl with red stained lips bared her teeth out at her.

"Sophia told me you never hang out…I was pretty shocked to see you here." He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles and shot her a deliberately slow wink, "Must be my lucky day."

She wanted to ask him why he'd talked to Sophia about her but she was too floaty and serene to care. Though the thought tickled her mind and she couldn't suppress the giggle that came bubbling up her throat. He tilted his head toward her; instinct told her to pull away and run for the hills but impulse propelled her forward and she found herself leaning in to kiss his cheek.

He chuckled and placed a finger under her chin, "Vous avez rate."

She scrunched her brows up together, "Huh?"

He brought his lips down onto hers.

* * *

*****It came to my attention that what Christophe said to Céline translates to 'Miss you'. He's supposed to say 'You missed'. I checked Google for the translation when I wrote it but I guess it's being weird... I actually just entered 'Vous avez rate' into the translate box and it gave me 'you spleen'. Defiantly not what Christophe said to ****Céline. Apologies! If anyone knows the correct translation please message me.*****

**I'm sorry about taking long to update- I had planned to write more and post this chapter last night but I got into an argument with my brother last night and this is his laptop I'm using so he took it from me **** Sorry!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comment, review, or just say hi!**

**Again, thanks for reading. **


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